The English Works of Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury

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600068423T

2/-

THE

ENGLISH WORKS

OF

THOMAS HOBBES.

Ik..

7.^.

THE

ENGLISH WORKS

OF

THOMAS HOBBES

OF MALMESBURY;

NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND EDITED

CY

SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART.

VOL. IV.

LONDON:

JOHN BOHN,
HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

IVIDCCCXL.

i^/jT . ^'.. J^c5<V

m

CX)NTENTS OF VOL. IV.

PAOB

Tripos ; in Three Discourses :

1. Human Nature, or the Fundamental Elements of

Policy - - - 1

II. De Corpore Politico, or the Elements of Law - 77
III. Of Liberty and Necessity ----- 229

An Answer to Bishop Bramhall's Book, called " The Catching

of the Leviathan" - - •....- - - - 279

An Historical Narration concerning Heresy, and the Punish-
ment thereof ---. -r --- 385

«

Considerations upon the Reputatipn, Lpyialty, Manners, and

Religion of Thomas Hobbes - - - - - 409

Answer to Sir William Davenant's Preface before "Gondibert" 441

Letter to the Right Honourable Edward Howard - - - 459

HOBBES' TRIPOS

IN

THE FIRST,

HUMAN NATURE :

THE SECOND,

DE CORPORE POLITICO:

THE THIRD,

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY

BY

THOMAS HOBBES

OF MALMESIUrUV.

HUMAN NATURE,

OR THE

FUNDAMENTAL ELEMENTS

OF

POLICY.

BEING A DISCOVERY OF

THE FACULTIES, ACTS, AND PASSIONS,

OF

THE SOUL OF MAN,

FROM THEIR ORIGINAL CAUSES ;
ACCOBDINO TO SUCH

PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES,
AS ARE NOT COMMONLY KNOWN OR ASSERTED.

BY

THOMAS HOBBES

OF HALHESBURY.

Ik

TO THE READER.

Reader,

It was thought good to let you know that Mr, Hobbes
hath written a body of philosophy, upon such principles
and in such order as are used by men conversant in
demonstration : this he hath distinguished into three parts ;
De Corporej De Homines De Cive ; each of the consequents
beginning at the end of the antecedent, and insisting
thereupon, as the later Books of Eticlid upon the former.
The last of these he hath already published in Latin
beyond the seas; the second is this now presented: and if
these two receive justice in the world, there is hope we
may obtain the first He whose care it is, and labour, to
satisfy the jttdgment and reason of mankind, will conde-
scend so far, we hope, to satisfy the desire of those learned
men whom these shall either have found or made ; which
cannot be, until they shall analytically have followed the
grand pJuenomena of states and kingdoms through the
passions of particular men, into the elemental principles
of natural and corporeal motions. The former work was
published by the Author, and so is out of danger ; this by
a friend, with leave from him : and to secure this, you are

^

TO THE READER.

intreated to consider the relations wherein it stands, espe-
cially to the book de Give. It was thought a part of
religion, not to make any change without the author's
advice, which could not suddenly be obtained ; and so it
comes forth innocently, supposing nothing to have hap-
pened since the Dedication of it ; which if it seem a
solecism to some, it may to others give satisfaction, in
calling to mind those times and opportunities to which we
are indebted for these admirable compositions.

F. B.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

WILLIAM, EARL OF NEWCASTLE,

GOVERNOR TO THE PRINCE HIS HIGHNESS,
ONE OF HIS majesty's MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.

My most honoured Lord,

From the principal parts of Nature, Reason and
Passion, have proceeded two kinds of learning, wa-
thematical and dogmatical: the former is free from
controversy and dispute, because it consisteth in com-
paring figure and motion only; in which things, truth,
and the interest of men, oppose not each other : but
in the other there is nothing undisputable, because it
compareth men, and meddleth with their right and
profit ; in which, as oft as reason is against a man,
so oft will a man be against reason. And from hence
it Cometh, that they who have written of justice and
policy in general, do all invade each other and them-
selves with contradictions. To reduce this doctrine
to the rules and infallibility of reason, there is no
way, but, first, put such principles down for a founda-
tion, as passion, not mistrusting, may not seek to
displace ; and afterwards to build thereon the truth
of cases in the law of nature (which hitherto have
been built in the air) by degrees, till the whole have
been inexpugnable. Now, my Lord, the principles
fit for such a foundation, are those which heretofore

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY.

I have acquainted your Lordship withal in private
discourse, and which by your command I have here
put into a method. To examine cases thereby be-
tween sovereign and sovereign^ or betw^een sovereign
and subject y I leave to them that shall find leisure
and encouragement thereto. For my part, I present
this to your Lordship for the true and only founda-
tion of such science. For the style, it is therefore
the worse, because, whilst I was writing, I consulted
more with logic than with rhetoric : but for the doc-
trine, it is not slightly proved ; and the conclusions
thereof of such nature, as, for want of them, govern-
ment and peace have been nothing else, to this day,
but mutual fears ; and it would be an incomparable
benefit to commonwealth, that every one held the opi-
nion concerning law and policy here delivered. The
ambition therefore of this book, in seeking by your
Lordship's countenance to insinuate itself with those
whom the matter it containeth most nearly con-
cerneth, is to be excused. For myself, I desire no
greater honour than I enjoy already in your Lord-
ship's favour, unless it be that you would be pleased,
in continuance thereof, to give me more exercise in
your commands ; which, as I am bound by your
many great favours, I shall obey, being,

My most honoured Lord,
Your most humble and most obliged Servant,

Thomas Hobbes.

May 9, 164-0.

k

IN LIBELLUM PR^STANTISSIMI

TUOMM HOBBII,

VIRI VERE PHILOSOPHI,

*'DE NATURA HOMINIS."

QUiG magna coeli moenia, et tractus maris
Terrseque fines, siquid aut ultra est, capit,
Mens ipsa tandem capitur : omnia hactenus
Quas nosse potuit, nota jam primum est sibi.

Accede, Lector, disce quis demum sies ;
£t inquilinam jecoris agnoscas tui.
Qua propius haeret nil tibi, et nil tam procul.

Non hie scholarum frivola, aut cassi logi,
Quales per annos forte plus septem legit ;
Ut folle pleno prodeat, rixae artifex ;
Vanasque merces futili lingua crepet :
Sed sancta rerum pondera, et sensus graves,
Quales parari decuit, ipsa cum fuit
Pingenda ratio, et vindici suo adstitit.

Panduntur omnes machinae gyri tuae,
Animaeque vectes, trochleae, cunei, rotae ;
Qua concitetur arte, quo sufflamine
Sistatur ilia rursus, et constet sibi :
Nee, si fenestram pectori humano suam
Aptasset ipse Momus, inspiceret magis.
Hie cerno levia affectuum vestigia,
Gracilesque sensus lineas ; video quibus
Vehantur alis blanduli cupidines,
Quibusque stimulis urgeant irae graves.
Hie et dolores, et voluptates suos
Produnt recessus ; ipse nee timor latet.

XVI

Has norit artes, quisquis in foro velit
Animorum habenas flectere, et populos cupit
Aptis ligatos nexibus jungi sibi.
Hie Archimedes publicus figat pedem,
Siquando regna machinis politicis
Urgere satagit, et feras gentes ciet^
Imisque motum sedibus mundum quatit :
Facile domabit cuncta, qui menti imperat.

Consultor audax, et Promethei potens
Facinoris anime ! quis tibi dedit Deus
Hsec intueri saeculis longe abdita,
Oculosque luce tinxit ambrosia tuos ?
Tu mentis omnis, at tuae nulla est capax.
Hac laude solus fruere : divinum est opus
Animam creare ; proximum huic, ostendere.

Rad. Bathurst, A,M.

COL. TRIN. OXON.

HUMAN NATURE:

OR THE

FUNDAMENTAL ELEMENTS

OF POLICY.

Introduction.

CHAPTER I.

1. The true and perspicuous explication of the chap. i.
elements of laws natural and politic {which is my
present scope) dependeth upon the knowledge of
what is human nature^ what is body politic , and
what it is we call a law ; concerning which points,
as the writings of men from antiquity dowTiwards
have still increased, so also have the doubts and
controversies concerning the same : and seeing
that true knowledge begetteth not doubt nor con-
troversy, but knowledge, it is manifest from the
present controversies, that they, which have hef'e-
tofore written thereof, have not well understood
their own subject.

2. Harm I can do none, though I err no less
than they ; for I shall leave men but as they are, in
doubt and dispute : but, intending not to take any
principle upon trtist^ but only to put men in mind
of what they know already^ or may know by their

VOL. IV. B

IntHxluctimi.

2 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. I. own experience, I hope to err the less ; and when
I do, it must proceed from too hasty concluding^
which I will endeavour as much as I can to avoid.

3. On the other side, if reasoning aright win
not consent, which may very easily happen, from
them that being confident of their own knowledge
weigh not what is said, the Jhult is not mine, but
theirs ; for as it is my part to shew my reasons, so
it is theirs to bring attention.

4. Man's nature is the sum of his natural facul-
ties and powers y as the faculties of nutrition, mo-
tion, generation, sense, reason, 8fc. These powers
we do unanimously call natural, and are con-
tained in the definition of man, under these words,
animal and rational.

5. According to the two principal parts of man,
I divide his faculties into two sorts, faculties of the
hody, and faculties of the mind.

6. Since the minute and distinct anatomy of the
powers of the hody is nothing necessary to the pre-
sent purpose, I will only sum them up in these
three heads, power nutritive, power motive, and
power generative.

7. Of the powers of the mind there be two sorts,
cognitive, imaginative, or conceptive and motive ;
and first of cognitive.

For the understanding of what I mean by the
power cognitive, we must remember and acknow-
ledge that there be in our minds continually cer-
tain images or conceptions of the things without
us, insomuch that if a man could be alive, and all
the rest of the world annihilated, he should never-
theless retain the image thereof, and all those
things which he had before seen or perceived in it ;

Introduction.

HUMAN NATURE. 3

every one by his own experience knowing, that the chap, i.,
absence or destruction of things once imagined
doth not cause the absence or destruction of the
imagination itself. This imagery and representa-
tions of the qualities of the thing without, is that
we call our conception, imagination, ideas, notice
or knowledge of them ; and ihejaculty or power
by which we are capable of such knowledge, is that
I here call cognitive power, or conceptive, the
power of knowing or conceiving.

CHAPTER II.

2. Definition of sense. 4. Four propositions concerning the
nature of conceptions. 5. The first proved. 6. The second
proved. 7, 8. The third proved. 9. The fourth proved.
10. The main deception of sense.

1. Having declared what I mean by the word
conception, and other words equivalent thereunto,
I come to the conceptions themselves, to shew their
differences, their causes, and the manner of the
production, so far as is necessary for this place.

2. Originally all conceptions proceed from the Definition
action of the thing itself, whereof it is the concep- **
tion : now when the action is present, the concep-
tion it produceth is also called sense ; and the
thing by whose action the same is produced, is

. called the object of the sense.

3. By our several organs we have several con^
ceptions of several qualities in the objects ; for by
sight we have a conception or image composed of
colour smd figure, which is all the notice and know-
lege the object imparteth to us of its nature by the
eye. By hearing we have a conception called

B 2

4 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. ir. ^oundy which is all the knowledge we have of the
' — • — ' quality of the object from the ear. And so the
rest of the senses are also conceptions of several
qualities, or natures of their objects.
Foarpropon. 4. Bccausc thc Image in vision consisting of
iug ti^*^^ colour and shape is the knowledge we have of the
of coDoepuoDs. qualities of the object of that sense ; it is no hard
matter for a man to fall into this opinion^ that the
same colour and shape are the very qualities them-
selves ; and for the same cause, that sound and
noise are the qualities of the belly or of the air.
And this opinion hath been so long received, that
the contrary must needs appear a great paradox ;
and yet the introduction of species visible and in-
telligible (which is necessary for the maintenance
of that opinion) passing to and fro from the object,
is worse than any paradox, as being a plain impos-
sibility. I shall therefore endeavour to make plain
these points :

That the subject wherein colour and image are
inherent, is not the object or thing seen.

That there is nothing without us (really) which
we call an image or colour.

That the said image or colour is but an appari-
tion unto us of the ^notion, agitation, or alteration,
which the object w^orketh in the brain, or spirits,
or some internal substance of the head.

That as in vision, so also in conceptions that
arise from the other senses, the subject of their
inherence is not the object, but the sentient.
The flrrt prored. 5. Evcry mau hath so much experience as to
have seen the sun and the other visible objects by
reflection in the water and glasses ; and this alone
is sufficient for this conclusion, that colour and

k

HUMAN NATURE, 5

image may be there where the thing seen is not. chap, ii*
But because it may be said that notwithstanding ^' '
the image in the water be not in the object, but a
thing merely phantastical^ yet there may be colour
really in the thing itself: I will urge further this
experience, that divers times men see directly the
same object double, as two candles for one, which
may happen from distemper, or otherwise without
distemper if a man will, the organs being either in
their right temper, or equally distempered; the
colours and figures in two such images of the
same thing cannot he inherent therein, because the
thing seen cannot be in two places.

One of these images therefore is not inherent in
the object : but seeing the organs of the sight are
then in equal temper or distemper, the one of them
is no more inherent than the other ; and conse-
quently neither of them both are in the object ;
which is the first proposition, mentioned in the
precedent number.

6. Secondly, that the image of any thing byTheacoond
reflection in a glass or water or the like, is not ^"^
any thing in or behind the glass, or in or under

the w^ater, every man may grant to himself ; which
is the second proposition,

7. For the third, we are to consider, first thatupon Thetwrd
every great agitation or concussion of the hratn

(as it happeneth from a stroke, especially if the
stroke be upon the eye) whereby the optic nerve
sufi^ereth any great violence, there appeareth be-
fore the eyes a certain light, which light is nothing
without, but an apparition only, all that is real
being the concussion or motion of the parts of that
nerve ; from which experience we may conclude.

6 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. n. that apparition of light is really nothing but mo^
Thetiiird '^^ within. If therefore from lucid bodies there
prored. caii be derived motion^ so as to affect the optic
nerve in such manner as is proper thereunto, there
will follow an image of light somewhere in that
line by which the motion was last derived to the
eye ; that is to say, in the object, if we look di-
rectly on it, and in the glass or water, when we
look upon it in the line of reflection, which in effect
is the third proposition ; namely, that image and
colour is but an apparition to us of that motion,
agitation, or alteration which the object worketh
in the brain or spirits, or some internal substance
in the head.

8. But thztfrom all lucid, shining and illuminate
bodies, there is a motion produced to the eye, and,
through the eye, to the optic nerve, and so into the
brain, by which that apparition of light or colour
is affected, is not hard to prove. And first, it is
evident that the^r^, the only lucid body here upon
earth, worketh by motion equally every way ; inso-
much as the motion thereof stopped or inclosed, it
is presently extinguished, and no more fire. And
further, that that motion, whereby the fire worketh,
is dilation, and contraction of itself alternately^
commonly called scintillation or glowing, is mani-
fest also by experience. From such motion in the
fire must needs arise a rejection or casting from
itself of that part of the medium which is contigu-
ous to it, whereby that part also rejecteth the next^
and so successively one part beateth back another
to the very eye ; and in the same manner the ex-
terior part of the eye presseth the interior, (the laws
of refraction still observed). Now the interior

HUMAN NATURE. 7

coat of the eye is nothing else but a piece of the chap, lu
optic nerve ; and therefore the motion is still con* S'^,

■^ . The third

tinned thereby into the brainy and by resistance proved.
or reaction of the brain, is also a rebound into the
optic nerve again ; which we ?iot conceiving as
motion or rebound from within, do think it is
without, and call it light ; as hath been already
shewed by the experience of a stroke. We have
no reason to doubt, that the fountain of light, the
sun, worketh by any other ways than the fire, at
least in this matter. And thus all vision hath its
original from such motion as is here described:
for where there is no light, there is no sight ; and
therefore colour also must be the same thing with
light, as being the effect of the lucid bodies : their
difference being only this, that when the light
Cometh directly from the fountain to the eye, or
indirectly by reflection from clean and polite
bodies, and such as have not any particular motion
internal to alter it, we call it light ; but when it
cometh to the eye by reflection from uneven, roughs
and coarse bodies, or such as are affected with
internal motion of their own that may alter it,
then we call it colour ; colour and light differing
only in this, that the one is pure, and the other
perturbed light. By that which hath been said,
not only the truth of the third proposition, but also
the whole manner of producing light and colour,
is apparent.

9. As colour is not inherent in the object, but an The fourth
effect thereof upon us, caused by such motion in ^^""^
the object, as hath been described : so neither is
sound in the thing we hear, but in ourselves. One
manifest sign thereof is, that as a man may see, so

8 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. II. aiso he may liear double or treble^ by multiplica-
' ' ' tioii of echoes y which echoes are sounds as well as the
original ; and not being in one and the same place,
cannot be inherent in the body that maketh them.
Nothing can make any thing which is not in itself :
the clapper hath no sound in it, but motion, and
maketh motion in the internal parts of the bell ;
so the bell hath motion, and not sound, that im-
parteth motion to the air ; and the nir hath motion,
but not sound ; the air imparteth motion by the
ear and nerve unto the brain ; and the brain hath
motion but not sound; from the brain, it reboundeth
back into the nerves outward^ and thence it be-
cometh an aj}j)arition without, which we call sound.
And to proceed to the rest of the senses, it is ap-
parent enough, that the smell and taste of the same
thing, are not the same to every man ; and there-
fore are not in the thing smelt or tasted, but in the
men. So likewise the heat we feel from the fire is
manifestly in 7is, and is quite different from the
heat which is in the fire : for our heat is pleasure
or pain, according as it is great or moderate ;
but in the coal there is no such thing. By this
the fourth and last proposition is proved, viz. that
as in vision, so also in conceptions that arise from
other senses, the subject of their inherence is not
in the object, but in the sentient.
rh« iiwinde. 10. And from hence also it foUoweth, that what-
soever accidents or qualities our senses make us
think there be in the world, they be not there, but
are seeming and apparitions only : the things that
rc»ally are in the world without us, are those mo-
tions by which these seemings are caused. And
this is the great decej)tio7i of sense, which also is

HUMAN NATURE.

to be by sense corrected: for as sense telleth me, chap. il
when I see directly ^ that the colour seemeth to be ' ''""^
in the object ; so also sense telleth me, when I see
by reflection^ that colour is not in the object.

CHAPTER III.

1. Imagination defined. 2. Sleep and dreams defined. 3. Causes
of dreams. 4. Fiction defined. 5. Phantasms defined. 6. lle-
nicmbrance defined. 7. Wherein remembrance consisteth.
8. Why in a dream a man never thinks he dreams. 9. Why
few things seem strange in dreams. 10. That a dream may
be taken for reality and vision.

1 . As Standing water put into motion by the stroke imagina-
of a stone y or blast of wind, doth not presently give
over moving as soon as the wind ceaseth, or the
stone settleth : so neither doth the effect cease
which the object hath wrought upon the brain, so
soon as ever by turning afeide of the organs the
object ceaseth to work ; that is to say, though the
sense be past, the image or conception remaineth ;
but more obscure while we are awalccy because
some object or other continually plieth and soli-
citeth our eyes, and ears, keeping the mind in a
stronger motion, whereby the weaker doth not
easily appear. And this obscure conception is that
we call j)hantasy, or imagination: imagination
being, to define it, conceptiori remaining^ and by
little and little decaying from and after the act
of sense.

2. But when present sense is wo^, as in A7^e», sioep ana

^ - ^- . • • /». 1 X.V dreains define^

there the images remaining after sense, when there
be many, as in dreams, are 7iot obscure, but strong
and clear, as in sense itself. The reason is, that

10 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. ni. which obscured and made the conceptions weak,
^ namely sense, and present operation of the object,

is removed : for sleep is the privation of the act qf
sense, (the power remaining) and dreams are the
imagination of them that sleep.
omtMe» 3. The causes of dreams, if they be natural, are

the actions or violence of the inward parts of a
man upon his brain, by which the passages of
sense by sleep benumbed, are restored to their mo-
tion. The signs by which this appeareth to be so,
are the differences of dreams (old men commonly
dream oftener, and have their dreams more painful
than young) proceeding from the different acci-
dents of man's body, as dreams of lust, as dreams
of anger^ according as the heart, or other parts
within, work more or less upon the brain, by more
or less Jieat ; so also the descents of different sorts
qf phlegm maketh us a dream of different tastes of
meats and drinks ; and*I believe there is a recipro-
cation of motion from the brain to the vital parts,
and back from the vital parts to the brain ; whereby
not only imagination begetteth motion in those
parts; but also motion in those parts begetteth
imagination like to that by which it was begotten.
If this be true, and that sad imaginations nourish
the spleen, then we see also a cause, why a strong
spleen reciprocally causeth /earful dreams, and
why the effects of lasciviousness may in a dream
produce the image of some person that had caused
them. Another sign that dreams are caused by
the action of the inward parts, is the disorder and
casual consequence of one conception or image to
another : for when we are waking, the antecedent
thought or conception introduceth, and is cause of

HUMAN NATURB. 1 1

the conseqtient, as the water foUoweth a man's chap, in
finger upon a dry and level table ; but in dreams ^"'^ '
there is commonly no colierencej and when there
is, it is by chance, which must needs proceed from
this, that the hrain in dreams is not restored to its
motion in every part alike ; whereby it cometh to
pass, that our thoughts appear like the stars between
the flying clouds, not in the order which a man
would choose to observe them, but as the uncertain
flight of broken clouds permits.

4. As when the water y or any liquid thing Fiction define
moved at once by divers movents, receiveth one
motion compounded of them all ; so also the brain

or spirit therein, having been stirred by divers
objects, composeth an imagination of divers con-
ceptions that appeared single to the sense. As for
example, the sense sheweth at one time the figure
of a mountain^ and at another time the colour of
gold ; but the imagination afterwards hath them
both at once in a golden mountain. From the
same cause it is, there appear unto us castles in
the air, chimeras, and other monsters which are
not in rerum natura, hut have been conceived by
the sense in pieces at several times. And this
composition is that which we commonly cb}\ fiction
of the mind.

5. There is yet another kind of imagination, Phanusms
which for clearness contendeth with sense, as well

as a dream ; and that is, when the action of sense
hath been long or vehement : and the experience
thereof is more frequent in the sense of seeing,
than the rest. An example whereof is, the image
remaining before the eye after looking upon the
sun. Also, those little images that appear before

12 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. in. the eyes in the dark (whereof I think every man

' ' ^ hath experience, but they most of all, who are

timorous or superstitious) are examples of the

same. And these, for distinction-sake, may be

called phantasms.

Remembrance 6. By thc seusBS yV^Ynx^ arc numbered according
to the organs to be Jive^ we take notice (as hath
been said already) of the objects without us ; and
that notice is our conception thereof : but we take
notice also some way or other of our conceptions :
for when the conception of the same thing cometh
again y we take notice that it is again ; that is to
say, that we have had the same conception before ;
which is as much as to imagine a thing past ;
which is impossible to the senscy which is only of
things present. This therefore may be accounted
a sixth sense, but internal, (not external^ as the
rest) and is commonly called remembrance.
^vherem re- 7. For thc manner by which we take notice of a
conauteth. couccption j^cL^tj wc arc to remember, that m the
definition of imagination^ it is said to be a concep-
tion by little and little decaying^ or growing more
obscure. An obscure conception is that which
representeth the whole object together, but none of
the smaller parts by themselves ; and as inore or
feiver parts be represented, so is the conception or
representation said to be more or less clear. See-
ing then the conceptiouy which when it was first
produced by sense, was clear, and represented the
2)arts of the object disfmctly ; and when it cometh
again is obscure, we find missing somewhat that
we expected; by which we judge it 7;^/^/ and de-
cayed. For example, a man that is present in a
foreign city, seeth not only whole streets, but can

HUMAN NATURE. 13

also distinguish particular houseSy and parts of chap. ill.
houses ; but departed thence, he cannot distinguish ' ' '
them so particularly in his mind as he did, some
Jioiise or turning escaping him ; yet is this to re-
member : when afterwards there escape him more
particulars, this is also to remember, but not so
well. In process of time, the image of the city
returneth but as a ma^s of building only, which is
almost to hsxejbrgotten it. Seeing then remem-
brance is fnore or less, as we find more or less
obscurity, why may not we well think remembrance
to be nothing else but the missing of parts, which
every man expecteth should succeed after they have
a conception of the whole ? To see at a great dis-
tance of place, and to remember at a great distance
of time, is to have like conceptions of the thing :
for there wanteth distinction of parts in both ; the
one conception being weak by operation at distance,
the other by decay.

8. And from this that hath been said, there fol- why in a
loweth, that a man can never know he dreameth ; never thinks
he may dream he doubteth, whether it be a dream ^ *^'*°**"
or no : but the clearness of the imagination repre-
senteth every thing with as many parts as doth

sense itself, and consequently, he can take notice
of nothing but as present ; whereas to think he
dreameth, is to think those his conceptions, that is
to say dreams, obscurer than they were in the sense :
so that he must think them both as clear, and not
as clear as sense ; which is impossible.

9. From the same ground it proceedeth, that wity few twr

Kceni strani^

men wonder not in their dreams at place and per- .irean».
sons, as they would do waking: for v/aking, a
man would think it strange to be in a place where

14 HUMAN NATURB.

CHAP. III. he never was before, and remember nothing of how
' ' he came there ; but in a dream, there cometh little
of that kind into consideration. The clearness of
conception in a dream, taketh away distrust^ un-
less the strangeness be excessive ^ as to think him-
self fallen from on high without hurt, and then
most commonly he waketh.
That a^am jQ^ ^q^ jg ]^ impossihlc for a man to be so far

may be takim ^ -^

for waKty and deccivcd, as whcu lus dream va pasty to think it real :
for if he dream of such things as are ordinarily in
his mind, and in such order as he useth to do
waking, and withal that he laid him down to sleep
in the place where he findeth himself when he
awaketh ; all which may happen : I know no KpcrZ/pio v
or mark by which he can discern whether it were
a dream or not, and therefore do the less wonder
to hear a man sometimes to tell his dream for a
truth, or to take it for a vision.

Tmon.

CHAPTER IV.

1. Discourse. 2. The cause of coherence of thoughts. 3. Ranging.
4. Sagacity. 5. Reminiscence. 6. Experience. 7* Expectation.
8. Conjecture. 9. Signs. 10. Prudence. ]1. Caveats of
concluding from experience.

DUcoune. 1. Thb succcsston of couceptious in the mind,
series or consequence of one after another, may be
casual and incoherent, as in dreams for the most
part ; and it may be orderly ^ as when the former
thought introduceth the latter; and this is rfiV
course of the mind. But because the word dis-
course is commonly taken for the coherence and
consequence of words, I will, to avoid equivocation,
call it discursion.

HUMAN NATURE. 15

2. The eatise of the coherence or consequence chap. iv.
of one conception to another, is their first coherence r^^^^
or consequence at that time when they are pro- of coherence
duced by sense : as for example, from St. Andrew

the mind runneth to St. Peter, because their names
are read together ; from St Peter to a stone^ for
the same cause ; from stone to foundation^ because
we see them together; and for the same cause,
from foundation to churchy and from church to
people^ and from people to tumult : and according
to this example, the mind may run almost from
anything to anything. But as in the sense the
conception of cause and effect may succeed one
another ; so may they after sense in the imagina^
tion : and for the most part they do so ; the cause
whereof is the appetite of them, who, having a
conception of the end, have next unto it a concep-
tion of the next means to that end : as, when a
man, from a thought of honour to which he hath
an appetite, cometh to the thought of wisdom,
which is the next means thereunto; and from
thence to the thought of study, which is the next
means to wisdom.

3. To omit that kind of discursion by which we Ranging.
proceed from anything to anything, there are of the
other kind divers sorts : as first, in the senses there

are certain coherences of conceptions, which we
may call ranging ; examples whereof are ; a man
casteth his eye upon the ground, to look about
for some small thing lost ; the hounds casting about
at a fault in hunting ; and the ranging of spaniels 2
and herein we take a beginning arbitrary.

4. Another sort of discursion is, when the appe^ sagacitj.
tite giveth a man his beginning, as in the example

16 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. IV. before, where honour to which a man hath appe-

' ' ' tite, maketh him think upon the next means of
attaining it, and that again of the next, &e. And
this the Latins call sagacitasj and we may call
huntvig or tracing, as dogs trace beasts by the
smell, and men hunt them by their footsteps ; or
as men hunt after riches, place, or knowledge.

B«minUccnce. 5. Thcrc is yct auothcr kind of discursion be-
ginning with the appetite to recover something
lost, proceeding from the present backward, from
thought of the place where we miss at, to the
thought of the place from whence we came last ;
and from the thought of that, to the thought of a
place before, till we have in our mind some place,
wherein we had the thing we miss : and this is
called reminiscence.

Experience. 6. Thc rcmembrance of succession of one thing
to another, that is, of what was antecedent, and
what consequent, and what concomitant, is called
an experiment ; whether the same be made by us
voluntarily, as when a man putteth any thing into
the fire, to see what eflfect the fire will produce
upon it : or not made by us, as when we remem-
ber a fair morning after a red evening. To have
had many experiments, is that we call experience,
which is nothing else but remembrance of what
antecedents have been followed by what conse-
quents.

ExpectaUon. 7« No mau cau have in his mind a conception of
the future, for the future is not yet : but of our
conceptions of the past, we make a future ; or
rather, call /ja*^, future relatively. Thus after a
man hath been accustomed to see like antecedents
followed by like consequents, whensoever he seeth

k

i.

HUMAN NATURE. 17

the like come to pass to any thing he had seen be- chap, iv,
fore, he looks there should follow it the same that ' ' '
followed then : as for example, because a man hath
often seen oflFences followed by punishment, when
he seeth an offence in present, he thinketh punish-
ment to be consequent thereto; but consequent
unto that which is present, men call future ; and
thus we make remembrance to be the prevision of
things to come, or expectation or presumption of
the future.

8. In the same manner, if a man seeth in pre- conjecture,
sent that which he hath seen before, he thinks that

that which was antecedent to that which he saw
before, is also antecedent to that he presently seeth :
as for example, he that hath seen the ashes remain
after the fire, and now again seeth ashes, conclud-
eth again there hath been fire : and this is called
again coiyecture of the past, or presumption of
the fact.

9. When a man hath so often observed like an- signs.
tecedents to be followed by like consequents, that
whensoever he seeth the antecedent, he looketh
again for the consequent ; or when he seeth the
consequent, maketh account there hath been the
like antecedent ; then he calleth both the antece-
dent and the consequent, signs one of another, as
clouds are signs of rain to come, and rain of clouds
past.

10. This taking of signs by experience ^ is that Provence,
wherein men do ordinarily think, the difference
stands between man and man in wisdom^ by which

they commonly understand a man's whole ability

or power cognitive ; but this is an error : for the

igns are but conjectural ; and according as they

VOL. IV. c

18 HUMAN NATURE.

CttAP* IV. have often or seldom failed^ so their assurance is
' ' ' more or less ; but never full and evident : for
though a man have always seen the day and night
to follow one another hitherto ; yet can he not
thence conclude they shall do so, or that they have
done so eternally : experience concludeth nothing
universally. K the signs hit twenty times for one
missing, a man may lay a wager of twenty to one
of the event ; but may not conclude it for a truth.
But by this it is plain, that they shall conjecture
hesty that have most experience, because they have
most signs to conjecture by : which is the reason
old men are more prudent, that is, conjecture better,
cteteris paribus, than young : for, being old, they
remember more ; and experience is but remem-
brance. And men of quick imagination, aeteris
paribus, are more prudent than those whose ima-
ginations are slow : for they observe 7nore in less
time. Prudence is nothing but conjecture from
experience, or taking of signs from experience
warily, that is, that the experiments from which
he taketh such signs be all remembered ; for else
the cases are not alike that seem so.
cayeateof ll. As lu conjccturc conccming things past and

fi^^^^ence. futurc, it is prudcuce to conclude from experience,
what is like to come to pass, or to have passed
already ; so it is an error to conclude from it, that
it is so or so called; that is to say, w^e cannot
from experience conclude, that any thing is to be
called ^'tt*^ or unjust, true or false, or any propo-
sition universal whatsoever, except it be from re-
membrance of the use of names imposed arbitrarily
by men : for example, to have heard a sentence
given in the like case, the like sentence a thousand

L

4IU.

HtMAN NAtURlfi. 10

times is not enough to conclude that the sentence cHAt. iV^
is just ; though most men have no other means to
conclude by i but it is necessary^ for the drawing
of such conclusion^ to trace txadjind out„ by many
experiences^ what men do mean by calling thingi
just and unjust* Further^ there is another emmt
to be taken in concluding by experience^ from the
tenth section of the second chapter ; that is^ that
we conclude such things to be without, that are
within us.

CHAPTER V.

]. Of marks. 2. Names or appellations. 3. Names positive
and privaiiye. 4. Advantage of names maketh us capable of
science. 5. Names universal and singular. 6. Uotversals not
in rerum naiuru* 7. Equivocal names. 8. Understanding.
9* Affirmation, negation, proposition* 10* Truth, fabity.
II. Ratiocination. 12. According to reason, against reason.
13. Names causes of knowledge, so of error. 14. Translation
of the discourse of the mind into the discourse of the tongue,
and of the errors thence proceeding*

1. Sbbing the succession of conceptions in the or maric
mind are caused^ as hath been said before, by the
succession they had one to another when they were
produced by the senses^ and that there is no con«
ception that hath not been produced immediately
before or after innumerable others, by the innu*
merable acts of sense ) it must needs follow, that
one conception followeth not another, according to
our election, and the need we have of them, but as
it chanceth us to hear or see such things as shall
bring them to our mind. The experience We have
hereof, is in such brute beasts, which, having the
providence to hide the remains and superfluity of

c %

20 HUMAN NATURE.

their meat, do nevertheless want the remembrance
of the place where they hid it, and thereby make
no benefit thereof in their hunger : but man, who
in this point beginneth to rank himself somewhat
above the nature of beasts, hath observed and re-
membered the cause of this defect, and to amend
the same, hath imagined or devised to set up a
visible or other sensible mark, the which, when he
seeth it again, may bring to his mind the thought
he had when he set it up. A mark therefore is a
sensible object which a man erecteth voluntarily to
himself, to the end to remember thereby somewhat
past, when the same is objected to his sense again :
as men that have passed by a rock at sea, set up
some mark, thereby to remember their former
danger, and avoid it.

2. In the number of these marks ^ are those
human voices^ which we call the names or appella-
tions of things sensible by the ear, by which we
recall into our mind some conceptions of the things
to which we gave those names or appellations ; as
the appellation white bringeth to remembrance the
quality of such objects as produce that colour or
conception in us. A name or appellation therefore
is the voice of a man arbitrary^ imposed for a
mark to bring into his mind some conception con-
cerning the thing on which it is imposed.
» positive 3. Things named, are either the objects them-
selves, as a man ; or the conception itself that we
have of man, as shape and motion : or some priva-
tion, which is when we conceive that there is some-
thing which we conceive, not in him ; as when w^e
conceive he is not just, not finite, we give him the
name of unjust, of infinite, which signify privation

•rivative.

HUMAN NATURE. 21

or defect ; and to the privations themselves we give chap, v*
the names of injustice and infiniteness: so that ^" * '
here be two sorts of names; one of things, in
which we conceive something ; or of the concep-
tions themselves, which are called positive: the
other of things wherein we conceive privation or
defect, and those names are called privative.

4. By the advantage of names it is that we are Advantage ©r
capable of science, which beasts, for want of them Sr°<^pS)ie*'of
are not ; nor man, without the use of them : for as '^•°***

a beast misseth not one or two out of many her
young ones, for want of those names of order, one,
two, and three, and which we call number ; so
neither would a man, without repeating orally or
mentally the words of number, know how many
pieces of money or other things lie before him.

5. Seeing there be maiiy conceptions of one and Names imiren
the same thing, and for every conception we give *"

it a several name ; it foUoweth that for one and
the same thing, we have many names or attributes ;
as to the same man we give the appellations of
just, valiant, &c. for divers virtues ; of strong,
comely, &c. for divers qualities of the body. And
again, because from divers things we receive like
conceptions, many things must needs have the
same appellation : as to all things we see, we give
the same name of visible ; and to all things we see
moveable f we give the appellation of moveable:
and those names we give to many, are called i/wi-
versal to them all ; as the name of man to every
particular of mankind : such appellation as we give
to one only thing, we call individual, or singular ;
as Socrates, and other proper names : or, by cir-
cumlocution, he that writ the Iliads, for Homer.

39 HUMAN NATURB.

CHAP« y« 6. The universality of one name to many things^
TJnmndsiMi '^^ ^^^^ '^^ causc that mcn think the things are

aanmoi

nahtra. themselves universal; and so seriously contend^
that besides Peter and John^ and all the rest of the
men that are^ have been^ or shall be in the world,
there is yet something else that we caU nmn, viz.
man in general^ deceiving themselves, by taking
the universal, or general appellation, for the thing
it signifieth : for if one should desire the painter to
make him the picture of a man, which is as much
as to say, of a man in general ; he meaneth no
more, but that the painter should choose what man
he pleaseth to draw, which must needs be some of
them that are, or have been, or may be, none of
which are universal. But when he would have him
to draw the picture of the king, or any particular
person, he limiteth the painter to that one person
he chooseth. It is plain therefore, that there is
nothing universal but names ; which are therefore
called indefinite ; because we limit them not our-
selves, but leave them to be applied by the hearer :
whereas a singular name is limited and restrained
to one of the many things it signifieth ; as when
we say, this man, pointing to him, or giving him
his proper name, or by some such other way.
Eqoivocai /, Thc appcllatious that be universal, and com-
mon to many things, are not always given to all
the particular Sy (as they ought to be) for like con-
ceptions, and like considerations in them all; which
is the cause that many of them are not of con--
stant signification, but bring into our mind other
thoughts than those for which they were ordained,
and these are called equivocal. As for example,
the word fi&ith signifieth the same with belief;

hk-

HUMAN NATURE. 23

sometimes it signifieth particularly that belief which chap, v,
maketh a Christian ; and sometime it signifieth the ' '
keeping of a promise. Also all metaphors are by
profession equivocal : and there is scarce any word
that is not made equivocal by divers contextures
of speech, or by diversity of pronunciation and
gesture,

8. This equivocation of names maketh it diffi-- understanding
cult to recover those conceptions for which the

name was ordained ; and that not only in the lan-
guage of other men, wherein we are to consider
the drifty and occasion, and contexture of the
speech, as well as the words themselves ; but also
in our discourse, which being derived from the
custom and common use of speech, representeth
imto us not our own conceptions. It is therefore
a great ability in a man, out of the words, contex-
ture, and other circumstances of language, to deli-
ver himself from equivocation, and to find out the
true meaning of what is said : and this is it we call
understanding.

9. Of two appellations, by the help of this little Affirmation,
verb is, or something equivalent, we make an affirm-- propo^on.
ation or negation, either of which in the Schools

we call also a proposition, and consisteth of two
appellations joined together by the said verb is :
as for example, man is a living creature ; or thus,
man is not righteous : whereof the former is called
an affirmation, because the appellation, living crea-
ture, is positive ; the latter a negative, because
not righteous is privative.

10. In every proposition^ be it aifirmative or ne- Truth, falsity.
gative, the latter appellation either comprehendeth

the former, as in this proposition, charity is a vir-

24 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. V. tue, the name of virtue comprehendeth the name
' * ' of charity, and many other virtues beside; and
then is the proposition said to be true^ or truth :
for, truths and a true propositiony is all one. Or
else the latter appellation comprehendeth not the
former ; as in this proposition, every man is just ;
the name of just comprehendeth not every man ;
for unjust is the name of the far greater part of
men : and the proposition is said to he^false, or
falsity : falsity and ^ false ^proposition being also
the same thing.
RatiocinaUcm. 1 1 . In what manner of two propositions, whether
both affirmative, or one affirmative, the other ne-
gative, is made a syllogism^ I forbear to write.
All this that hath been said of names or proposi-
tions, though necessary y is but dry discourse : and
this place is not for the whole art of logic, which
if I enter further into, I ought to pursue : besides,
it is not needful ; for there be few men which have
not so much natural logic, as thereby to discern
well enough, whether any conclusion I shall make
in this discourse hereafter, be well or ill collected :
only thus much I say in this place, that making of
syllogisms is that we call ratiocination or ren-
soning.
According 12. Now whcu a mau reasoncth from principles

against xviuon. that ViTQfound iudubitablc by experience, all decep-
tions of sense and equivocation of words avoided,
the conclusion he raaketh is said to be according
to right reason : but w hen from his conclusion a
man may, by good ratiocination, derive that which
is contradictory to any evident truth w^hatsoever,
then he is said to have concluded against reason :
and such a conclusion is called absurdity.

HUMAN NATURE. 25

13. As the invention of names hath been neces- chap. v.
sar?/ for the drawing men out o/" ignorance, by ' ' '
calling to their remembrance the necessary coA^-ofknowiedse,
rence of one conception to another ; so also hath *** ° ^^''
it on the other side precipitated men into error :
insomuch, that whereas by the benefit of words

and ratiocination they exceed brute beasts in know-
ledge, and the commodities that accompany the
same ; so they exceed them also in error : for true
and false are things not incident to beasts, because
they adhere not to propositions and language ; nor
have they ratiocination, whereby to multiply one
untruth by another, as men have.

14. It is the nature almost of every corpora/ Translation of

•' * the (lisconrw

thing, bemg often moved m one and the same man- the mind intoti
ner, to receive continually a greater and greater tcmgue. nmi
easiness and aptitude to the same motion, inso- ^^^^'l^'^P^^^^
much as in time the same becometh so habitual^
that, to beget it, there needs no more than to begin
it. The passions of man, as they are the beginning
of voluntary motions ; so are they the beginning
of speech, which is the motion of the tongue. And
men desiring to shew others the knowledge, opi-
nions, conceptions, and passions which are in them-
selves, and to that end having invented language,
have by that means transferred all that discitrsion
of their mind mentioned in the former chapter, by
the motio7i of their tongues, into discourse of
words : and ratio now is but cratio, for the most
part, wherein custom hath so great a power, that
the mind suggesteth only the first word ; the rest
follow habitually, and are not followed by the mind;
as it is with beggars, when they say their pater-
noster, putting together such words, and in such

26 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. V. manner, as in their education they have learned

Trondiuian of ^^^ ^^^^ nurscs, from their companies, or from
the diMoane of their teachcrs, having no images or conceptions in

the ndnd into the .V . -i . ,.i ii ,

diacoone of the tneir mmu, answering to the words they speak:
**"*^' "^ and as they have learned themselves, so they teach
posterity. Now, if we consider the power of those
deceptions of the sense, mentioned chapter ii. sec^
tion 10, and also how unconstantly names have
been settled, and how subject they are to equivo^
cation, and how diversified by passion, (scarce two
men agreeing what is to be called good, and what
evil; what liberality, what prodigality; what valour,
what temerity) and how subject men are to para-
logism or fallacy in reasoning, I may in a manner
conclude, that it is impossible to rectify so many
errors of any one man, as must needs proceed from
those causes, without beginning anew from the
very first grounds of all our knowledge and sense ;
and instead of books, reading over orderly one*s
own conceptions : in which meaning, I take nosce
teipsum for a precept worthy the reputation it hath
gotten.

CHAPTER VI.

1 . Of the two kinds of knowledge. 2. Truth and evidence ne-
cessary to knowledge. 3. Evidence defined. 4. Science de-
fined. 5. Supposition defined. 6. Opinion defined. 7- Belief
defined, 8. Conscience defined. 9. Belief, in some cases, no
less from doubt than knowledge.

KthetwokiDdi 1. There is a story somewhere, of one that pre-

^^* tends to have been miraculously cured of blindness,

wherewith he was born, by St. Alban or other

Saints, at the town of St. Alban*s ; and that the

HUMAN NATURE. 27

Duke of Gloucester being there, to be satisfied of chap. vi.
the truth of the miracle, asked the man, What ' ' '
colour is this ? who, by answering, it was green,
discovered himself, and was punished for a coun-
terfeit : for though by his sight newly received he
might distinguish between green, and red, and all
other colours, as well as any that should interro-
gate him, yet he could not possibly know at first
sight which of them was called green, or red, or by
any other name. By this we may understand,
there be two kinds of knowledge, whereof the one
is nothing else but sense, or knowledge original,
as I have said in the beginning of the second chap-
ter, and remembrance of the same ; the other is
called science or knowledge of the truth qfpropo-
sitioJiSy and how things are called, and is derived
from understanding. Both of these sorts are but
experience ; the former being the experience of
the efifects of things that work upon us from with^
out ; and the latter experience men have from the
proper use of names in language : and all expe-
rience being, as I have said, but remembrance, all
knowledge is remembrance: and of \hQ former,
the re^ster we keep in books, is called history ; but
the registers of the latter are called the sciences.

2. There are two things necessarily implied in Truth and evi.

this word knowledge ; the one is truth, the other to knowledge.
evidence ; for what is not truth, can never be
known. For, let a man say he knoweth a thing
never so well, if the same shall afterwards appear
false, he is driven to confession, that it was not
knowledge, but opinion. Likewise, if the truth be
not evident, though a man holdeth it, yet is his
knowledge thereof no more than theirs who hold

28 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP, VI. the contrary : for if truth were enough to make it '
' ' knowledge, all truth were known ; which is not so.
^dence 3 What trutk is, hath been defined in the pre-
cedent chapter ; what evidence is, I now set down:
and it is the concomitance of a man*s conception
with the words that signify such conception in the
act of ratiocination: for when a man . reasoneth
with his lips only, to which the mind suggesteth
only the beginning, and follow^eth not the words of
his mouth with the conceptions of his mind, out of
custom of so speaking ; though he begin his ratio*
cination with true propositions, and proceed with
certain syllogisms, and thereby make always true
conclusions ; yet are not his conclusions evident to
him, for want of the concomitance of conception
with his words : for if the words alone were suffi-
cient, a parrot might be taught as well to know
truth, as to speak it. Evidence is to truth, as the sap
to the tree, which, so far as it creepeth along with
the body and branches, keepeth them alive ; where
it fonsaketh them, they die: for this evidence, which
is meaning with our words, is the life of truth.
«r>ic« iv fiiwii. 4. Knowledge thereof, which we call science^
I define to be evidence of truths from some be-
{^i lining or principle of sense : for the truth of a
])roj)()sition is never evident, until we conceive the
\x\i\\i\\\w% of the words or terms whereof it con-
KJsteth, which are always conceptions of the mind:
nor ('an wc remember those conceptions, without
\\\i\ thing that produced the same by our senses.
'rh(^ first ])rinciple of knowledge is, that we have
«ii<*li and such conceptions ; the second, that we
have thus and thus named tlie things whereof they
are cronceptions ; the third is, that we have joined

k

HUMAN NATURE. 29

those names in such manner as to make true pro- chap, vi
positions ; the fourth and last is, that we have ' ' '
joined those propositions in such manner as they
be concluding, and the truth of the conclusion said
to be known. And of these two kinds of knowledge,
whereof the former is experience of fact^ and the
latter evidence of truth ; as the former, if it be
great, is called prudence ; so the latter, if it be
much, hath usually been called, both by ancient and
modern writers, sapience or wisdom : and of this
latter, man only is capable; of the former , brute
beasts also participate.

5. A proposition is said to be supposed, when, supposition
being not evident, it is nevertheless admitted for a

time, to the end, that, joining to it other proposi-
tions, we may conclude something; and to proceed
from conclusion to conclusion, for a trial whether
the same will lead us into any absurd or impossible
conclusion ; which if it do, then we know such
supposition to have been false.

6. But if running through many conclusions, we opinion defii
come to none that are absurd, then we think the
proposition probable ; likewise we think probable
whatsoever proposition we admit for truth by error

of reasoning, or from trusting to other men : and all
such propositions as are admitted by trust or error,
we are not said to know, but to think them to be
true ; and the admittance of them is called opinion.

7. And particularly, when the opinion is ad- Belief deane
mitted out of trust to other men, they are said to
believe it ; and their admittance of it is called be-
lief, and sometimes faith.

8. It is either science or opinion which we com- conscience
monly mean by the word conscience : for men say

30 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. VI. that such and such a thing is true in or upon their

' * ' conscience ; which they never do, when they think

it doubtful ; and therefore they know^ or think they

know it to be true. But men, when they say things

upon their conscience, are not therefore presumed

certainly to know the truth of what they say;

it remaineth then, that that word is used by them

that have an opinion^ not only of the truth of the

thing, but also of their knowledge of it, to which

the truth of the proposition is consequent. Con*

science I therefore define to be opinion of evidence »>

jeKef, in 9. Belief, which is the admitting of propositions

»s from doubt upon trusty in many cases is no less free from doubt,

ban knowledge. ^^^^ perfect Bud mauifcst knowledge : for as there

is nothing whereof there is not some cause ; so,
when there is doubt, there must be some cause
thereof conceived. Now there be many things
which we receive from report of others, of which
it is impossible to imagine any cause of doubt : for
what can be opposed against the consent of all men,
in things they can know, and have no cause to re-
port otherwise than they are, such as is a great
part of our histories, unless a man would say that
all the world had conspired to deceive him.

And thus much of sense, inmgination, discursion,
ratiocination, and knowledge, which are the acts
of our power cognitive, or conceptive. That power
of the mind which we call motive, diflFereth from
the power motive of the body ; for the power mo-
tive of the body is that by which it moveth other
bodies, and we call strength : but the power motive
of the mind, is that by which the mind giveth animal
motion to that body wherein it existeth ; the acts
hereof are our qffections and passions, of which I
am to speak in general.

^

HUMAN NATURE. 31

CHAPTER VII.

1 . Of delight, paiD, love, hatred. 2. Appetite, aversion, fear.
3. Good, evil, pulchritude, turpitude. 4. £nd, fruition. 5.
Profitable, use, vain. 6. Felicity. 7. Good and evil mixed.
8* Sensual delight, and pain ; joy and grief.

1 . In the eighth section of the second chapter is chap. vii.
shewed, that conceptions and apparitions are^^^ '^^^
nothing really, but motion in some internal sub- love. hatred.
stance of the head; winch motion not stopping
there, but proceeding to the heart, of necessity
must there either help or hinder the motion which
is called vital ; when it helpeth, it is called delight,
contentment, or pleasure, which is nothing really
but motion about the heart, as conception is no-
thing but motion in the head i and the objects that
cause it are called pleasant or delightful, or by
some name equivalent ; the Latins have Jucundum,
a Juvando, from helping ; and the same delight,
with reference to the object, is called love : but
when such motion weaheneth or hindereth the vital
motion, then it is called pain ; and in relation to
that which causeth it, hatred, which the Latins
express sometimes by odium, and sometimes by
t€Bdium.

2. This motion, in which consisteth pleasure or Appetite.

• •1 7**..* M» *tt . avenion, fear.

pain, IS also a soltcttatton or provocation either to
draw near to the thing that pleaseth, or to retire
from the thing that displeaseth ; and this solicita-
tion is the endeavour or internal beginning of ani-
mal motion, which when the object delighteth, is
called appetite ; when it displeaseth, it is called
aversion, in respect of the displeasure present;

32 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. VII. but ill respect of the disple<isure expected, fear.

' ' ^ So that pleasure J love, aud appetite, which is also
called desire, are divers names for divers consider-
ations of the sa)7ie thing.
Gomi.cvii. 3. Every man, for his own part, calleth that

turpitude. ' which pleascthy and is delightful to himself, good ;
and that ecil which displeaseth him : insomuch
that while every man differ eth from another in con^
stitution, they differ also from one another con-
cerning the common distinction of good and evil.
Nor is there any such thing as absolute goodness,
considered without relation : for even the goodness
which w^e apprehend in God Almighty, is his good^
ness to us. And as w-e call good and evil the
thifigs that please and displease ; so call we good-
ness and badness, the qualities or powers whereby
they do it : and the signs of that goodness are
called by the Latins in one word pulchritudo, and
the signs of evil, turpitudo ; to which we have no
words precisely answerable.

As all conceptions we have immediately by

the sense, are, delight, or j)ain, or appetite, or

fear ; so are all the imaginations after sense. But

as they are weaker imaginations, so are they also

weaker pleasures, or weaker pain.

End, fruition. 4. As appetite is the beginning of animal mo-
tion towards something that pleaseth us ; so is the
attaining thereof, the end of that motion, w hich we
also call the scope, and aim, and final cause of the
same : and when we attain that end, the delight
we have thereby is called the fruition : so that
bonuni and Jinis are different names, but for dif-
ferent considerations of the same thing.

5. And of ends, some of them are called propin-

k

HUMAN NATURE.

33

ProfiUble,
use. rain.

Felicity.

qui J that is, near at hand ; others remoti, far off : chap, vii
but when the ends that be nearer attaining, be
compared with those that be further off, they are
called not ends, but means, and the way to those.
But for an utmost end, in which the ancient phi-
losophers have "pXhced felicity, and disputed much
concerning the way thereto, there is no such thing
in this world, nor way to it, more than to Utopia :
for while we live, we have desires, and desire pre-
supposeth a farther end. Those things which
please us, as the way or means to a further end,
we call profitable ; and ihQ fruition of them, use ;
and those things that profit not, vain. ^

6. Seeing all delight is appetite, and presup-
poseth 2l further end, there can be no contentment
but in proceeding : and therefore we are not to
marvel, when we see, that as men attain to more
riches, honour, or other power ; so their appetite
continually groweth more and more ; and when
they are come to the utmost degree of some kind
of power, they pursue some other, as long as in
any kind they think themselves behind any other :
of those therefore that have attained to the highest
degree of honour and riches, some have affected
mastery in some art ; as Nero in music and poetry,
Commodus in the art of a gladiator ; and such as
affect not some such thing, must find diversion and
recreation of their thoughts in the contention either
of play or business : and men justly complain of a
great grief, that they know not what to do. Feli-
city, therefore, by which we mean continual de-
light, consisteth 7iot in having prospered, but in
prospering.

7. There are few things in this world, but either

VOL. lY. D

34 HUMAN NATURE.

IP. VII. have mixture of good and evil^ or there is a chain
j^~' of them so necessarily linked together, that the
1 mixod. one cannot be taken without the other : as for ex-
ample, the pleasures of sin, and the bitterness of
punishment, are inseparable ; as is also labour and
honour, for the most part. Now when in the
whole chain, the greater part is good, the whole
is called good ; and when the evil over^weigheth,
the whole is called evil.
ai delight, 8. There are two sorts of pleasure, whereof the
ri^' ^""^ one seemeth to afifect the corporeal organ of the
sense, and that I call sensual; the greatest part
whereof, is that by which we are invited to give
continuance to our species; and the next, by
which a man is invited to meat, for the preserva*
tion of his individual person : the other sort of de-
light is not particular to any part of the body, and
is called the delight of the mind, and is that which
we call Jof/. Likewise of pains, some affect the
body, and are therefore called the pains of the
body ; and some not, and those are called grief.

CHAPTER VIII.

1, 2. Wherein consist the pleasures of sense. 3, 4*. Of the ima-
gination, or conception of power in man. 5. Honour, honour-
able, worth. 6. Signs of honour. 7. Reverence. 8. Passions.

rein con- 1 . Having in thc first section of the precedent
!of JLtl^ chapter presupposed, that motion and agitation of
the brain which we call conception, to be conti-
nued to the heart, and there to be called passion ;
I have therefore obliged myself, as far forth as I
am able, to search out and declareyrow what con-
ception proceedeth every one of those passions

k

HUMAN NATURE. 35

which we commonly take notice of : for, seeing the chap, vin
things that please and displease, are innumerable, J~;
and work innumerable ways, men have not taken sbt the pi6».
notice but of a very few, which also are many of ""^
them without name.

2. And first, we are to consider, that of concep-
tions there are three /forts, whereof one is of that
which is present, which is sense ; another, of that
which is past, which is remembrance ; and the
third, of that which is future, which we call expec-^
tatian : all which have been manifestly declared in
the second and third chapters ; and every of these
conceptions is pleasure or pain present. And
first for the pleasures of the body which affect the
sense of touch and taste, as far forth as they be
organical, their conceptions are sense : so also is
the pleasure of all exonerations of nature: all
which passions I have before named, sensual plea--
sures ; and their contrary, sensual pains : to which
also may be added the pleasures and displeasures
of odours, if any of them shall be found organical,
which for the most part they are not, as appeareth
by this experience which every man hath, that the
same smells, when they seem to proceed from
others, displease, though they proceed from our-
selves ; but when we think they proceed from our-
selves, they displease not, though they come from
others : the displeasure of this is a conception of
hurt thereby from those odours, as being unwhole-
some, and is therefore a conception of evil to come,
and not present. Concerning the delight of hear^
ing, it is diverse, and the organ itself not affected
thereby : simple sounds please by equality, as the
sound of a bell or lute : insomuch as it seems, an

D2

36 HUMAN NATURE.

AP.viii. equality continued by the percussion of the object
'^, ' upon the ear, is pleasure; the contrary is called
ih« piM- harshiesSy such as is grating, and some other
'***'" soimds« which do not always aflFect the body, but
only sometime, and that with a kind of horror be-
ginning at the teeth. Harmony, or many sounds
together agreeing, please by the same reason as th^
unison, which is the sound of equal strings equally
stretched. Sounds that differ in any height, please
by inequality and equality altertmte, that is to
say, the higher note striketh twice, for one stroke
of the other, whereby they strike together every
second time ; as is well proved by Galileo, in the
first dialogue concerning local motion : where he
also sheweth, that two soimds differing z^jifth, de-
light the ear by an equality of striking after two
inequalities ; for the higher note striketh the eaf
thrice, while the other strikes but twice. In like
manner he sheweth wherein consisteth the plea-
sure of concord, and the displeasure of discord, in
other difference of notes. There is yet another plea-
sure and displeasure of sounds, which consisteth in
consequence of one note after another, diversified
both by accent and measure ; whereof that which
pleaseth is called an air ; but for what reason one
succession in tone and measure is a more pleasing
air than another, I confess I know not; but I conjeo-
ture the reason to be, for that some of them imitate
and revive some passion which otherwise we take
no notice of, and the other not ; for no air pleaseth
but for a time, no more doth imitation. Also the
pleasures of the eye consist in a certain equality of
colour : for light, the most glorious of all colours,
is made by equal operation of the object ; whereas

HUMAN NATURE. 37

colour is perturhed^ that is to say, unequal light, chap.viu
as hath been said, chapter ii. section 8. And there- ' * '
fore colours, the more equality is in them, the more
resplendent they are ; and as harmony is pleasure
to the eary which consisteth of divers sounds ; so
perhaps may some mixture of divers colours be
harmony to the eye, more than another mixture.
There is yet another delight by the ear^ which
happeneth only to men of skill in music, which is
of another nature, and not, as these, conception
of the present, but rejoicing of their own skill ; of
which nature are the passions of which I am to
speak next.

3. Conception of thi^ future, is but a supposition or the

of the same, proceeding from remembrance of what ^JJSJ^^'o?
is past ; and we so far conceive that anything will "^"^ ^ °*°-
he hereafter, as we know there is something at the
present that hath power to produce it : and that
anything hath power now to produce another thing
hereafter, we cannot conceive, but by remembrance
that it hath produced the like heretofore. Where-
fore all conception of future, is conception of power
able to produce something. Whosoever therefore
expecteth pleasure to come, must conceive withal
some power in himself by which the same may be
attained. And because the passions, whereof I
am to speak next, consist in conception of the
future, that is to say, in conception of power past,
and the act to come; before I go any farther, I must
in the next place speak somewhat concerning this
power.

4. By this power I mean the same with the
faculties of the body, 7ivtritivey generative, motive,
and of the mind, kfiowlcdge ; and besides these,

38 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP.viii. such further power as by them is acquired, ri«.
• riches, place of authority, friendship or favour ,
and good fortune ; which last is really nothing
else but the favour of God Almighty. The con-
traries of these are impotencies, infirmities, or
defects of the said powers respectively. And be-
cause the power of one man resisteth and hindereth
the eflFects of the power of another, power simply
is no more, but the excess of the power of one
above that of another : for equal powers opposed,
destroy one another ; and such their opposition is
called contention.

Honour, ho. 5. fhc signs by which we know our own power,

are those actions which proceed from the same ;
and the signs by which other men know it, are
such actions J gesture, countenance and speech, as
usually such powers produce: and the acknow-
ledgment of power is called honour ; and to ho-
nour a man inwardly, is to conceive or acknowledge
that that man hath the odds or excess of that
power above him with whom he contendeth or
compareth himself. And honourable are those
signs for which one man acknowledgeth power or
excess above his concurrent in another : as for
example, beauty of person, consisting in a lively
aspect of the countenance, and other signs of
natural heat, are honourable, being signs prece-
dent of power generative, and much issue ; as
also, general reputation among those of the other
sex, because signs consequent of the same. And
actions proceeding from strength of body, and
open force, are honourable, as signs consequent of
power motive, such as are victory in battle or duel ;
a d*avoir tue son homme. Also to adventure upon

HUMAN NATURE. 39

great exploits and danger, as being a sign conse- cHAP.vni
qnent of opinion of our own strength, and that ' ' '
opinion a sign of the strength itself. And to teach
or persnade a»e honourable, because they be signs
of knowledge. And riches are honourable ; as
signs of the power that acquired them : and gifts,
cost, and magnificence of houses, apparel, and the
like, are honourable, as signs of riches. And
nobility is honourable by reflection, as a sign of
power in the ancestors : and authority ^ because a
sign of the strength, wisdom, favour or riches by
which it is attained. And good fortune or casual
prosperity is honourable, because a sign of the
fiivour of God, to whom is to be ascribed all that
cometh to us by fortune, no less than that we attain
unto by industry. And the contraries and defects
of these signs are dishonourable ; and according
to the signs of honour and dishonour, so we esti-
mate and make the value or worth of a man : for
so much worth is every thing, as a man will give
for the use of all it can do.

6. The signs of honour are those by which wesignsof honou
perceive that one man acknowledgeth the power
and worth of another ; such as these, to praise^ to
magnify , to bless, to call happy, to pray or suppli-
cate to, to thank, to offer unto or present, to obey,
to hearken unto with attention, to speak to with
consideration, to approach unto in decent manner,
to keep distance from, to give way to, and the like,
which are the honour the inferior giveth to the
superior.

But the signs of honour from the superior to
the inferior, are such as these ; to praise or
prefer him before his concurrent, to hear more

40 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. viii. willingly, to speak to him more familiarly, to admit
' ' ' him nearer, to employ him rather, to ask his advice
rather, to take his opinions, and to give him any
gifts rather than money ; or if money, so much
as may not imply his need of a little : for need of
a little is greater poverty than need of mach. And
this is enough for examples of the signs of honour
and power.

7. Reverence is the conception we have concern-
ing another, that he hath the power to do unto us
both f^ood and hurt^ but not the will to do us hurt.

8. In the pleasure men have, or displeasure from
the signs of honour or dishonour done unto them,
consisteth the nature of the passions, whereof we
arc to speak in the next chapter.

CHAPTER IX.

1. Cilory Mpiring, false plory, vain glory. 2. H»imility and clo-
jcction. 3. Shame. 4. Courage. 5. Anger. 6 Revenpeful-
ness. 7. Uepentance. 8. Hope, dtspair, diffidence. 9. Trust
10. Pity and hardness of heart. 11. Indignation. 12. Emu-
lation and envy. 13. Laughter. 14. Weeping. 15. Lust.
16. liOve. 17. Charity. 18. Admiration and curiosity.
19. Of the passion of them that flock to see danger. 20. Of
magnanimity and pusillanimity. 21. A view of the passions
represented in a race.

"iri71l!^i«j ^* ^LO^Y, or internal gloriation or triumph of
fiiirjr.riingiory. the mind, is the passion which proceedeth from
the imagination or conception of our own power
above the power of him that contendeth with us ;
the signs whereof, besides those in the counte-
nance, and other gestures of the body which can-
not be described, are, ostentation in words, and
insolency in actions : and this passion, of them

HUMAN NATURE. 41

whom it displeaseth, is called pride; by them chap. ix.
whom it pleaseth, it is termed a jtist valuation of q.^"^^
himself. This ima^nation of our power or worth, puing, fi>i«>
may be from an assured and certain experience oi^''^'^^
on/own actions ; and tixen is that g4,W, and
well grounded, and begetteth an opinion of m-
creasing the same by other actions to follow ; in
which consisteth the appetite which we call aspir-
ingy or proceeding from one degree of power to
another. The same passion may proceed not from
any conscience of our own actions, but from fame
and trust of others, whereby one may think well
of himself, and yet be deceived ; and this is Jialse
glory, and the aspiring consequent thereto pro-
cureth ill success. Further, the fiction, which is
also imagination, of actions done by ourselves,
which never were done, is glorying ; but because
it begetteth no appetite nor endeavour to any fur-
ther attempt, it is merely vain and unprofitable ;
as when a man imagineth himself to do the actions
whereof he readeth in some romance, or to be like
unto some other man whose acts he admireth :
and this is called vain glory ; and is exemplified
in the fable, by the fly sitting on the axletree, and
saying to himself. What a dust do I make rise I
Tlie expression of vain glory is that wish, which
some of the Schools mistaldng for some appetite
distinct from all the rest, have called velleity,
making a new word, as they made a new passion
which was not before. Signs of imin glory in the
gesture are, imitation of others, counterfeiting
and usurping the signs of virtue they have not,
aflFectation of fashions, captation of honour from
their dreams, and other little stories of themselves,

42 HUMAN NATURB.

CHAP. IX. from their country, from their names^ and ftt)m

' ' ' the like.

HanuiuT 2. Thc passioR contrary to glory ^ proceeding

from apprehension of our own infirmity, is called
humility by those by whom it is approved ; by the
rest, dejection and poorness : which conception
may be well or ill grounded ; if well, it produceth
fear to attempt any thing rashly ; if ill, it utterly
cows a man, that he neither dares speak publicly,
nor expect good success in any action.
siirinc. 3. It happeneth sometimes, that he that hath a
good opinion of himself, and upon good ground,
may nevertheless, by reason of the frowardness
which that passion begetteth, discover in himself
some defect or infirmity, the remembrance whereof
dejecteth him ; and this passion is called shame ;
by which being cooled and checked in his forward-
ness, he is more wary for the time to come. This
passion, as it is a sign of itifirmityy which is dis^
honour; so also it is a sign of knowledge j which
is honour. The sign of it is blushing, which
appeareth less in men conscious of their own
defect, because they less betray the infirmities
they acknowledge.
Courage. 4. Couragc, in a large signification, is the ab-
sence of Jcar in the presence of any evil whatso-
ever : but in a strict and more common meaning,
it is contempt of wounds and death, when they
oppose a man in the way to his end.
ADger. 5. Anger or sudden courage is nothing but the
appetite or desire of overcoming present opposi-
tion. It hath been defined commonly to be grief
proceeding from an opinion of contempt ; which
is confrited by the often experience which we have

k

HUMAN NATURE. 43

of being moved to anger by things inanimate^ and chap. ix.
without sense, and consequently incapable of con- * — • — '
temning us.

6. Revengefulness is that passion which ariseth Re^-'ngefoineas.
I^om an expectation or imagination of making him

that hath hurt us, find his own action hurtful to
bimself, and to acknowledge the same ; and this is
the height of revenge : for though it be not hard,
by returning evil for evil, to make one's adversary
displeased with his own fact ; yet to make him ac-
knowledge the same, is so difficult, that many a
man had rather die than do it, Revenge aimeth
not at the death, but at the captivity or subjection
rf an enemy ; which was well expressed in the ex-
clamation of Tiberius Caesar, concerning one, that,
to frustrate his revenge, had killed himself in prison ;
Hath he escaped 7ne ? To hilly is the aim of them
that hate, to rid themselves out of fear : revenge
aimeth at triumph^ which over the dead is not/

7. Repentance is the passion which proceedeth Repentance.
from opinion or knowledge that the action they

have done is out of the way to the end they would
attain : the effect whereof is, to pursue that way
no longer, but, by the consideration of the end, to
direct themselves into a better. The first motion
therefore in this passion is grief; but the expecta-
tion or conception of returning again into the way,
is joy ; and consequently, the passion of repent-
ance is compounded and allayed of both : but the
predominant is joy ; else were the whole grief,
which cannot be, forasmuch as he that proceedeth
towards the end, he conceiveth good, proceedeth
mth appetite ; and appetite is joy, as hath been
said, chapter vii. section 2.

44

HUMAN NATUmS.

Hope, despair,
diffidence.

Tnut

CHAP. IX. 8. Hope is expectaHom of good to come, as fear
is the expectation of eril: bat when th^re be
causes, some that make us eiqiect good, and some
that make us e3q)ect evil, altematehr working in
our mind ; if the causes that make ns expect good,
be greater than those that make ns expect evil, the
whole passion is hope : if contrarihr, the whole is
fear. Absolute priratiom of hope is despair, a
degree whereof is diffidemce,

9. Trust is a pais^ion proceeding firom the belirf
of him from whom we expect or hope for good, so

free from donht that upon the same we pursue no
other way to attain the same good ; as distrust or
diffidence is doubt that maketh him endeavour to
provide himself by other means. And that this is
the meaning of the words trust and distrust, is
n\nnifest from this, that a man never provideth
himself by a second way, but when he mistrusteth
that the first will not hold.

10. Pity is imagination or fiction of future
(Milau\ity to ourselves^ proceeding firom the sense
of atiother man's calamity. But when it lighteth
on siu^h as we think have not deserved the same,
thi* (H)nipassion is greater, because then there ap-
])our(^th more probability that the same may happen
to us : for, the evil that happeneth to an innocent
num, may happen to every man. But when we
s(H^ a man suffer for great crimes, which we cannot
rasily think will fall upon ourselves, the pity is the
h'ss. And therefore men are apt to pity those
whom they love : for, whom they love, they think
worthy of good, and therefore not worthy of cala-
niity. Thcnco it is also, that men pity the vices
of HC)in<? persons at the first sight only, out of love

VWy uid Imnl-
imiN of limrt

HUMAN NATURE. 45

to their aspect. The contrary of pity is hardness chap, ix,
of heart J proceediug either from slowness of ima- ' * "
gination^ or some extreme great opinion of their
own exemption from the like calamity, or from
hatred of all or most men.

1 1 . Indignation is that grief which consisteth indignatioiL
in the conception of good success happening to

them whom they think unworthy thereof. Seeing
therefore men think all those unworthy whom they
hate, they think them not only nnworthy of the
good fortune they have, but also of their own vir-
tues. And of all the passions of the mind, these
two, indignation and pity, are most raised and in-
creased by eloquence : for, the aggravation of the
calamity y and extenuation of Xhi^ fault , augmenteth
pity ; and the extenuation of the worth of the
person, together with the magnifying of his suc-
cess, which are the parts of an orator, are able to
turn these two passions into fury.

12. Emulation is ^ri^* arising from seeing one's EmuiatioD
self exceeded or excelled by his concurrent, toge- ^ *'*^"
ther with hope to equal or exceed him in time to
come, by his own ability. But, envy is the same
grief joined with pleasure conceived in the ima-
gination of some ill fortune that may befall him.

1 3. There is a passion that hath no name ; but Laughter.
the sign of it is that distortion of the countenance
which we call laughter, which is always joy : but
what joy, what we think, and wherein we triumph
when we laugh, is not hitherto declared by any.
That it consisteth in wit, or, as they call it, in the
jest, experience confuteth : for men laugh at mis-
chances and indecencies, wherein there lieth no

wit nor jest at all. And forasmuch as the same

46 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. IX. thing is no more ridiculous when it groweth stale
^ ^ ' or usual, whatsoever it be that moveth laughter^ it
must be new and unexpected. Men laugh often,
especially such as are greedy of applause from
every thing they do well, at their own actions per-
formed never so little beyond their own expecta-
tions ; as also at their own Jests : and in this case
it is manifest, that the passion of laughter pro-
ceedeth from a sudden conception of some ability
in himself that laugheth. Also men laugh at the
infirmities of others, by comparison wherewith
their own abilities are set off and illustrated. Also
men laugh at Jests^ the wit whereof always con-
sisteth in the elegant discovering and conveying to
our minds some absurdity of another : and in this
case also the passion of laughter proceedeth from
the suddefi imagination of our own odds and emi-
nency : for what is else the recommending of our-
selves to our own good opinion, by comparison
with another man's infirmity or absurdity ? For
when a jest is broken upon ourselves, or fiiends
of whose dishonour we participate, we never laugh
thereat. I may therefore conclude, that the pas-
sion of laughter is nothing else but sudden glory
arising from some sudden conception of some emi-
nency in ourselves, by comparison with the infirm^
ity of others, or with oxir own formerly : for men
laugh at the follies of themselves past, when they
come suddenly to remembrance, except they bring
with them any present dishonour. It is no wonder
therefore that men take heinously to be laughed at
or derided, that is, triumphed over. Laughter
without offence^ must be at absurdities and infirm-
ities abstracted from persons, and when all the

HUMAN NATURE. 47

company may laugli together : for laughing to one's- chap, ix,
self pntteth all the rest into jealousy and examinar ' — • — '
tion of themselves. Besides, it is vain glory, and
an argument of little worth, to think the infirmity
of another, sufficient matter for his triumph.

14. The passion opposite hereunto, whose signs weeping.
are another distortion of the face with tears, called
weepings is the sudden falling out with ourselves,

or sudden conception of defect; and therefore
children weep often ; for seeing they think that
every thing ought to be given them which they
desire, of necessity every repulse must be a check
of their expectation, and puts them in mind of their
too much weakness to make themselves masters of
all they look for. For the same cause «(ww»«j are
more apt to weep than men, as being not only
more accustomed to have their wills, but also to
measure their powers by the power and love of
others that protect them* Men are apt to weep
that prosecute revenge, when the revenge is sud-
denly stopped or frustrated by the repentance of
their adversary ; and such are the tears of recon-
ciliation. Also revengeful men are subject to this
passion upon the beholdmg those men they pity,
and suddenly remember they cannot help. Other
weeping in men proceedeth for the most part from
the same cause it proceedeth from in women and
hildren.

15. The appetite which men call lust^ and the Lmt.
fruition that appertaineth thereunto, is a sensual
pleasure, but not only that ; there is in it also a
deUght of the mind : for it consisteth of two ap-
petites together, to please ^ and to he pleased;
and the delight men take in delighting, is not sen-

48 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. IX. sual, but a pleasure or joy of the mind consisting
' ' ^ in the imagination of the power they have so much
to please. But the name lust is used where it is
condemned ; otherwise it is called by the general
word lave : for the passion is one and the same
indefinite desire of different sex, as natural as
hunger.
Love. 16. Of love, by which is understood the joy man
taketh in the fruition of any present good, hath
been already spoken of in the first section, chapter
VII. under which is contained the love men bear to
one another y or pleasure they take in one another's
company ; and by which nature, men are said to
be sociable. But there is another kind of love,
which the Greeks call ''Epcuc, and is that which we
mean, when we say that a man is in love : foras-
much as this passion cannot be without diversity
of sex, it cannot be denied but that it participateth
of that indefinite love mentioned in the former
section. But there is a great difference betwixt
the desire of a man indefinite, and the same desire
limited ad hunc ; and this is that love which is the
great theme of poets : but notwithstanding their
praises, it must be defined by the word need : for
it is a conception a man hath of his need of tJuU
one person desired. The cause of this passion is
not always nor for the most part beauty, or other
quality in the beloved, unless there be withal hope
in the person that loveth : which may be gathered
from this, that in great difference of persons, the
greater have often fallen in love with the meaner ;
but not contrary. And from hence it is, that for
the most part they have much better fortune in
love, whose hopes are built upon something in

HUMAN NATURE. 49

their person, than those that trust to their expres- chap. ix.
sions and service ; and they that care less, than ' ' '
they that care more : which not perceiving, many
men cast away their services, as one arrow after
another, till, in the end, together with their hopes,
they lose their wits.

17. There is yet another passion sometimes chirity.
called love^ but more properly good will or charity.
There can be no greater argument to a man, of his
own power, than to find himself able not only to
accomplish his own desires, but also to assist other
men in theirs : and this is that conception wherein
consisteth charity. In which, first, is contained
that natural qffection of parents to their children,
which the Greeks call Sropy^, as also^ that affec-
tion wherewith men seek to assist those that ad-
here unto them. But the affection wherewith men
many times bestow their benefits on strangers^ is
not to be called charity, but either contract,
whereby they seek to purchase friendship ; or fear,
which maketh them to purchase peace. The opi-
nion of Plato concerning honourable love, delivered
according to his custom in the person of Socrates,
in the dialogue intituled Convivium, is this, that a
man fiill and pregnant with wisdom and other vir-
tues, naturally seeketh out some beautiful person,
of age and capacity to conceive, in whom he may,
without sensual respects, engender and produce
the like. And this is the idea of the then noted
love of Socrates wise and continent, to Alcibiades
young and beautiful: in which, love is not the
sought honour, but the issue of his knowledge ;
contrary to the common love, to which though
issue sometimes follows, yet men seek not that,

VOL. IV. E

50 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. IX. but to please, and to be pleased. It should be
' ' ' therefore this charity, or desire to assist and ad-
vance others. But why then shoidd the wise seek
the ignorant, or be more charitable to the beautiful
than to others ? There is something in it savour-
ing of the use of that time : in which matter though
Socrates be acknowledged for continent, yet the
continent have the passion they contain^ as muck
and more than they that satiate the appetite;
which maketh me suspect this platanic love for
merely sensual ; but with an honourable pretence
for the old to haunt the company of the young and
beautiful.
Admirauoii 18. Forasmuch as all knowledge beginneth from

and ciuionty. • < i i? i • • ^\

experience, thereiore also new experience is the
beginning of new knowledge, and the increase of
experience the beginning of the increase of know-
ledge. Whatsoever therefore happeneth new to a
man, giveth him matter of hope of knowing some-
what that he knew not before. And this hope
and expectation of future knowledge from anything
that happeneth new and strange, is that passion
which we commonly call admiration; and the
same considered as appetite, is called curiosity,
which is appetite of knowledge. As in the dis-
cerning of faculties, man leaveth all community
with beasts at the faculty of imposing names ; so
also doth he surmount their nature at this passion
of curiosity. For when a beast seeth anything
new and strange to him, he considereth it so Car
only as to discern whether it be likely to serve his
turn, or hurt him, and accordingly approacheth
nearer to it, or fleeth from it : whereas man, who
in most events remembereth in what manner they

HUMAN NATURE. 51

were caused and begun, looketh for the cause and chap. ix.
beginning of everything that ariseth new unto him. '"■^"'
And from this passion of admiration and curiosity,
have arisen not only the invention of names, but
also supposition of such causes of all things as they
thought might produce them. And from this be-
ginning is derived all philosophy ; as astronomy
from the admiration of the course of heaven ; natu--
ral philosophy from the strange effects of the ele-
ments and other bodies. And from the degrees of
curiosity, proceed also the d^rees of knowledge
amongst men : for^ to a man in the chase of riches
or authority, (which in respect of knowledge are
but sensuality) it is a diversity of little pleasure,
whether it be the motion of the sun or the earth
that maketh the day, or to enter into other con-
templations of any strange accident, otherwise than
whether it conduce or not to the end he pursueth.
Because curiosity is delight, therefore also novelty
is so, but especially that novelty from which a man
conceiveth an opinion true or false of bettering his
oven estate ; for, in such case, they stand affected
with the hope that all gamesters have while the
cards are shuMng.

19. Divers other passions there be, but theyo'*!"*?^?*^^

'^ ^ ^ them that flock

want names : whereof some nevertheless have been to see danger.
by most men observed : for example ; from what
passion proceedeth it, that men take pleasure to
behold from the shore the danger of them that are
at sea in a tempest, or in fight, or from a safe castle
to behold two armies charge one another in the
field ? It is certainly, in the whole sum, joy ; else
men would never flock to such a spectacle. Never-
theless there is in it both joy and grief: for as

E2

52 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. IX. there is novelty and remembrance of our own seen-
' ' '^ rity present, which is delight; so there is also
joi/y, which is grief; but the delight is so far pre-
dominant, that men nsnally are content in such a
case to be spectators of the misery of their friends.
Of magoA. 20. Magnanimity is no more than glory j of the
putaianimitj. which I have spoken in the first section ; but glory
well grounded upon certain experience of a power
sufficient to attain his end in open manner. And
pusillanimity is the doubt of that. Whatsoever
therefore is a sign of tain glory j the same is also
a sign of pusillanimity : for sufficient power maketh
glory a spur to one's end. To be pleased or dis-
pleased with fame true or false, is'a sign of that
same, because he that relieth on fame hath not his
success in his own power. Likewise art and fal-
lacy are signs of pusillanimity, because they depend
not upon our own power, but the ignorance of
others. Also proneness to anger, because it ar-
gueth difficulty of proceeding. Also ostentation
of ancestors, because all men are more inclined to
make shew of their own power when they have it,
than of another's. To be at enmity and contention
with inferiors, is a sign of the same, because it
proceedeth from want of power to end the war.
To laugh at others, because it is an affectation of
glory from other men's infirmities, and not from
any ability of their own. Also irresolution, which
proceedeth from want of power enough to contemn
the little difficulties that make deliberations hard.
A riew of the 21. Thc comparisou of the life of man to a race,
l!i!i3TnT*^. though it hold not in every part, yet it holdeth so
well for this our purpose, that we may thereby both
see and remember almost all the passions before

HUMAN NATURE. 53

mentioned. But this race we mnst suppose to chap, ix
have no other goal^ nor other garlatid, but being a view of the
foremost, and in it : paMion. wpm

. . sented in o rac

To endeavour, is appetite.

To be remiss, is sensuality.

To consider them behind, is glory.

To consider them before, is humility.

To lose ground with looking back, vain glory.

To be holden, hatred.

To turn back, repentance.

To be in breath, hope.

To be weary, despair.

To endeavour to overtake the next, emulation.

To supplant or overthrow, envy.

To resolve to break through a stop foreseen,
courage.

To break through a sudden stop, anger.

To break through with ease, magnanimity.

To lose ground by little hindrances, pusillani-
mity.

To fall on the sudden, is disposition to weep.

To see another fall, is disposition to laugh.

To see one out-gone whom we would not, is pity.

To see one out-go whom we would not, is indigo
nation.

To hold fast by another, is to love.

To carry him on that so holdeth, is charity.

To hurt one's-self for haste, is shame.

Continually to be out-gone, is misery.

Continually to out-go the next before, x& felicity.

And to forsake the course, is to die.

64 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAPTER X.

CHAP. X. 1 . Having shewed in the precedent chapters^ that
' ■ ' sense proceedeth from the action of external ob-
jects upon the brain, or some internal substamce
of the head ; and that the passions proceed from
the alteration there made, and continued to the
heart : it is consequent in the next place, seeing
the diversity of degrees in knowledge in divers
men, to be greater than may be ascribed to the
divers tempers of their brain, to declare what other
causes may produce such odds, and excess of capa-
city, as we daily observe in one man above ano-
ther. As for that diflFerence which ariseth from
sickness, and such accidental distempers^ I omit
the same, as impertinent to this place, and consi-
der it only in such as have their health, and organs
weU disposed. If the difference were in the natural
temper of the brain, I can imagine no reason why
the same should not appear first and most of all in
the senses, which being equal both in the wise and
less wise, infer an equal temper in the common
organ (namely the brain) of all the senses,

2. But we see by experience, thatyoy and griej
proceed not in all men from the same causes, and
that men differ very much in the constitution of
the body ; whereby, that which helpeth and ftir-
thereth rital constitution in one, and is therefore
delightfrd, hindereth it and crosseth it in another,
and therefore causeth grief. The difference there-
fore of wits hath its original J^rom the different
passions, and from the ends to which the appetite
leadeth them.

^

HUMAN NATURB. 66

^- i ■»*'

, 3. And first, those men whose ends are sensual chap, x
delight, and generally are addicted to ease, foodi
onerations and exonerations of the body, must
needs be the less thereby delighted with those
imaginations that conduce not to those ends, such
as are imaginations of honour and glory, which, as
I have said before, have respect to the future : for
sensuality consisteth in the pleasure of the senses,
which please only for the present, and take away
the inclination to observe such things as conduce
to honour, and consequently maketh men less
curious, and less ambitious, whereby they less con-
sider the way either to knowledge or other power ;
in which two consisteth all the excellency of power
cognitive. And this is it which men call dulness,
and proceedeth from the appetite of sensual or
bodily delight. And it may well be conjectured,
that such passion hath its beginning from a gross-
ness and difficulty of the motion of the spirit
about the heart.

4. The contrary hereunto, is that quick ranging
of mind described, chapter iv. section 3, which is
joined with curiosity of compaiing the things that
come into the mind, one with another : in which
comparison, a man delighteth himself either with
finding unexpected similitude of things, otherwise
much unlike, in which men place the excellency of
fancy, and from whence proceed those grateful
similies, metaphors, and other tropes, by which
both poets and orators have it in their power to
make things please or displease, and shew well or
ill to others, as they like themselves ; or else in
discerning suddenly dissimilitude in things that
otherwise appear the same. And this virtue of the

56 HUMAN NATURE.

cHAP.x. mind is that by which men attain to exact and
^*^^' ' perfect knowledge ; and the pleasure thereof con-
sisteth in continual instruction^ and in distinction
of places, persons, and seasons, and is commonly
termed by the name of judgment : for, to judge is
nothing else, but to distinguish or discern: and
both fancy and judgment are commonly compre-
hended under the name of triV, which seemeth to
be a tenuity and agility of spirits, contrary to that
restiness of the spirits supposed in those that are
dull.

5. There is another defect of the mind, which
men call levity, which betrayeth also mobility in
the spirits, but in excess. An example whereof is
in them that in the midst of any serious discourse,
have their minds diverted to every little jest or
witty observation ; which maketh them depart from
their discourse by a parenthesis, and from that pa-
renthesis by another, till at length they either lose
themselves, or make their narration like a dream, or
some studied nonsense. The passion from whence
this proceedeth, is curiosity, but with too much
equality and indifference : for when all things make
equal impression and delight, they equally throng
to be expressed.

6. The virtue opposite to this defect is gravity,
or steadiness ; in which the end being the great
and master-delight, directeth and keepeth in the
way thereto all other thoughts.

7. The extremity of duUness is that natural
Jolly which may be called stolidity : but the ex-
treme of levity, though it be natural folly distinct
from the other, and obvious to every man's obser-
vation, I know not how to call it.

^

HUMAN NATURE. 5/

8. There is a fault of the mind called by the chap. x.
Greeks 'A/ia9ia, which is indocihilityj or difficulty ' ' '
of being taught ; the which must needs arise from

a false opinion that they know already the truth
of that is called in question : for certainly men are
not otherwise so unequal in capacity as the evidence
is unequal between what is taught by the mathe-
maticians^ and what is commonly discoursed of in
other books : and therefore if the minds of men
were all of white paper, they would almost equally
be disposed to acknowledge whatsoever should
be in right method, and by right ratiocination
delivered to them : but when men have once ac-
quiesced in untrue opinions, and registered them
as authentical records in their minds, it is no less
impossible to speak intelligibly to such men, than
to write legibly upon a paper already scribbled
over. The immediate cause therefore of indocihi-
lity, is prejudice ; and of prejudice, false opinion
of our own knowledge.

9. Another, and a principal defect of the mind,
is that which men call madness ^ which appeareth
to be nothing else but some imagination of some
such predominancy above the resty that we have
no passion hut from it ; and this conception is
nothing else but excessive vain glory ^ or vain de-
jection ; which is most probable by these examples
following, which proceed in appearance every one
of them from pride, or some dejection of mind.
As first, we have had the example of one that
preached in Cheapside from a cart there, instead of
a pulpit, that he himself was Christ, which was
spiritual pride or madness. We have had also
divers examples of learned madness, in which men

58 HUMAN NATURB.

CHAP. X. have manifestly been distracted upon any occaaon
' " ' that hath put them in remembrance of their own
ability. Amongst the learned men, may be re-
membered, I think also, those that determine of
the time of the world's end, and other snch the
points of prophecy. And the gallant madness of
Don duixote is nothing else bnt an expression of
such height of vain glory as reading of romance
may produce in pusillanimous men. Also rage and
madness of love, are but great indignations of them
in whose brains is predominant contempt from
their enemies, or their mistresses. And the pride
taken in Jbrm and behaviour ^ hath made divers
men run mad, and to be so accounted, under the
name of fantastic.

10. And as these are the examples of extremities,
so also are there examples too many of the degrees,
which may therefore be well accounted follies ; as
it is a degree of the Jirst, for a man, without cer-
tain evidence, to think himself to be inspired^ or
to have any other effect of God's holy spirit than
other godly men have. Of the second^ for a man
continually to speak his mind in a cento of other
men's Greek or Latin sentences. Of the third,
much of the present gallantry in love and duel.
Of rage, a degree is malice; and oi fantastic
madness, qff^ectation.

1 1 . As the former examples exhibit to us mad-
ness, and the degrees thereof, proceeding from the
excess of self-opinion ; so also there be other ex-
amples of madness, and the degrees thereof, pro-
ceeding from too much vain fear and dejection ;
as in those melancholy men that have imagined
themselves brittle as glass, or have had some other

HUMAN NATURE. 59

like imagination : and degrees hereof are all those chap. x.

exorbitant and causeless fears, which we commonly '-•""^' — ^
observe in melancholy persons.

CHAPTER XL

1 . Hitherto of the knowledge of things natural,
and of the passions that arise naturally from them.
Now forasmuch as we give names not only to things
natural, but also to supernatural; and by all names
we ought to have some meaning and conception :
it followeth in the next place, to consider what
thoughts and imaginations of the mind we have,
when we take into our mouths the most blessed
name of God, and the names of those virtues we
attribute unto him ; as also, what image cometh
into the mind at hearing the name of spirit j or the
name of angel, good or bad.

2. And forasmuch as God Almighty ismcojwpre-
hensihlcy it followeth, that we can have no concep-
tion or image of the Deity, and consequently, all
his attributes signify our inability and defect of
power to conceive any thing concerning his nature,
and not any conception of the same, excepting
only this, that there is a God : for the effects we
aclmowledge naturally, do include a power of their
producing, before they were produced ; and that
power presupposeth something existent that hath
such power : and the thing so existing with power
to produce, if it were not eternal, must needs have
been produced by somewhat before it, and that
again by something else before that, till we come
to an eternal, that is to say, the first power of all

60 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. XI. powers, and first cause of all causes : and this is it
^ " ' which all men conceive by the name of God, im-
plying eternity, incomprehensibility, and omnipo-
tency. And thus all that will consider, may know
that God is, though not what he is : even a man
that is bom blind, though it be not possible for him
to have any imagination what kind of thing fire is;
yet he cannot but know that somewhat there is
that men call fire, because it warmeth him.

3. And whereas we attribute to God Almighty,
seeing^ hearings speaking, knowings loving, and
the like, by which names we understand something
in men to whom we attribute them, we understand
nothing by them in the nature of God : for, as it is
well reasoned, Shall not the God that made the
eye, see ; and the ear, hear ? So it is also, if we
say, shall God, which made the eye, not see with-
out the eye ; or that made the ear, not hear with-
out the ear ; or that made the brain, not know
without the brain; or that made the heart, not
love without the heart ? The attributes therefore
given unto the Deity, are such as signify either
our incapacity or our reverence : our incapacity,
when we say incomprehensible and infinite ; our
reverence, when we give him those names, which
amongst us are the names of those things we most
magnify and commend, as omnipotent, omniscient,
just, merciful, &c. And when God Almighty giveth
those names to himself in the Scriptures, it is but
ai'SpwTTOTraOaic, that is to Say, by descending to our
manner of speaking ; without which we are not
capable of understanding him.

4. By the name of spirit, we understand a hody
natural, but of such suhtilty, that it worketh not

k.

HUMAN NATURE. 61

upon the senses ; but that fiUeth up the place which chap. xi.
the image of a visible body might fill up. Our ' " '
conception therefore of spirit consisteth of figure
without colour ; and in figure is understood di-
mension, and consequently, to conceive a spirit, is
to conceive something that hath dimension. But
spirits supernatural commonly signify some suh-
stance without dimension ; which two words do
flatly contradict one another : and therefore when
we attribute the name of spirit unto God, we attri-
bute it not as the name of anything we conceive,
no more than we ascribe unto him sense and under-
standing ; but as a signification of our reverence, we
desire to abstract from him aU corporal grossness.
5. Concerning other things, which some men
call spirits incorporeal^ and some corporeal, it is
not possible by natural means only, to come to
knowledge of so much, as that there are such
things. We that are Christians acknowledge that
there be angels good and evil, and that there are
spirits, and that the soul of a man is a spirit, and
that those spirits are immortal : huty to know it,
that is to say, to have natural evidence of the same,
it is impossible: for, all evidence is conception,
as it is said, chap. vi. sect. 3, and all concep-
tion is imagination, and proceedeth from sense,
chap. III. sect. 1. And spirits we suppose to be
those substances which work not upon the sense,
and therefore not conceptible. But though the
Scripture acknowledges spirits, yet doth it nowhere
say, that they are incorporeal, meaning thereby,
without dimension and quality ; nor, I think, is that
word incorporeal at all in the Bible ; but it is said
of the spirit, that it abideth in men ; sometimes that

62 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. XI. i^ dwelleth in them, sometimes that it cometh on
'•~'^' — ' them, that it descendeth, and goeth, and cometh ;
and that spirits are angels, that is to say messen-
gers : aU which words do imply locality ; and lo-
cality is dimefision; and whatsoever hath dimension,
is body, be it never so snbtile. To me therefore it
seemeth, that the Scripture favonreth them more,
that hold angels and spirits corporeal, than them
that hold the contrary. And it is a plain contra^
diction in natural discourse, to say of the soul of
man, that it is tota in toto, et tota in qualihet parte
corporis J grounded neither upon reason nor reve-
lation, but proceeding from the ignorance of what
those things are which are called spectra^ images,
that appear in the dark to children, and such as
have strong fears, and other strange imaginations,
as hath been said, chapter iii. sect. 5, where I call
them phantasms : for, taking them to be things
real, without us, like bodies, and seeing them to
come and vanish so strangely as they do, unlike to
bodies ; what could they call them else, but incor-
poreal bodies ? which is not a name, but an ab-
surdity of speech.

6. It is true, that the heathens, and all nations
of the world, have acknowledged that there be
spirits, which for the most part they hold to be
incorporeal ; whereby it might be thought, that a
man by natural reason, may arrive, without the
Scriptures, to the knowledge of this, that spirits
are : but the erroneous collection thereof by the
heathens, may proceed, as I have said before, from
the ignorance of the cause of ghosts and phantasms,
and such other apparitions. And from thence had
the Grecians their number of gods^ their number

HUMAN NATURE. 63

of Aenums good or bad, and for every man his chap.x:
genius ; which is not the acknowledging of this " '
truth, that spirits are ; but a false opinion con-
cerning the force of imagination.

7. And seeing the knowledge we have of spirits^
is not natural knowledge, but faith from super-
natural revelation given to the holy writers of the
Scriptures ; it foUoweth, that of inspirations also,
which is the operation of spirit in us, the know-
ledge which we have, must all proceed from Scrip-
ture. The signs there set down of inspiration^
are miracles^ when they be great, and manifestly
above the power of men to do by imposture : as
for example, the inspiration of EUas was known by
the miraculous burning of the sacrifice. But the
signs to distinguish whether a spirit be good or
evil, are the same by which we distinguish whether
a man or a tree be good or evil, namely, actions
and Jruit : for there are lying spirits, wherewith
men are inspired sometimes, as well as with spirits
of truth. And we are commanded in Scripture,
to judge of the spirits by their doctrine, and not of
the doctrine by the spirits. For miracles, our
Saviour {Matth. xxiv. 24) hath forbidden us to
rule our faith by them. And Saint Paul saith,
{Gal. i. 8) : Though an angel from heaven preach
to you otherwise y &c. let him he accursed. Where
it is plain, that we are not to judge whether the
doctrine be true or not, by the angel ; but whether
the angel say true or no, by the doctrine. So like-
wise, ( 1 Joh. iv. 1 ) : Believe not every spirit : for
false prophets are gone out into the world. Verse 2 :
Hereby shall ye know the spirit of God. Verse 3 :
Every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ

64 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. XI. is come in the fleshy is not of God: and this ii
' • ' the spirit of Antichrist. Verse 1 5 : Whosoever
confesseth that Jesus is the Son of God, in h$M
dwelleth God, and he in God. The knowledge
therefore we have of good and evil inspiration,
Cometh not by vision of an angel that may teach
it, nor by a miracle that may seem to confirm it ;
but by conformity of doctrine with this article and
fundamental point of Christian faith, which also
Saint Paul (1 Cor. iii. ] 1) saith is the sole founda-
tion. That Jesus Christ is come in the flesh.

8. But if inspiration be discerned by this point,
and this point be acknowledged and believed upon
the authority of the Scriptures ; how (may some
men ask) know we that the Scripture deserveth
so great authority, which must be no less than
that of the lively voice of God ; that is, how do
we know the Scriptures to be the word of God 9
And first, it is manifest, that if by knowledge we
understand science infallible and natural, as is de-
fined, chap. VI. sect. 4, proceeding from sense, we
cannot be said to know it, because it proceedeth
not from the conceptions engendered by sense.
And if we understand knowledge as supernatural,
we cannot have it but by inspiration : and of that
inspiration we cannot judge, but by the doctrine :
it followeth, that we have not any way, natural or
supernatural, of the knowledge thereof, which can
properly be called infallible science and evidence.
It remaineth, that the knowledge that we have that
the Scriptures are the word of God, is only faith^
which faith therefore is also by Saint Paul {Heb.
xi. I) defined to be the evidence of things not seen;
that is to say, not otherwise evident but by faith :
for, whatsoever either is evident by natural reason,

HUMAN NATURE. 65

or revelation supernatural, is not called faith ; else chap. xi.
should not faith cease, no morp than charity, when ' ' '
we are in heaven ; which is contrary to the doc-
trine of the Scripture. And, we are not said to
believe^ hut to know those things that be evident.

9. Seeing then the acknowledgment of Scrip-
tures to be the word of God, is not evidence, but
faith, and faith (chapter vi. sect. 7) consisteth in
the trust we have of other men, it appear eth plain,
that the men so trusted, are the holy men of God's
church succeeding one another from the time of
those that saw the wondrous works of God Al-
mighty in the flesh. Nor doth this imply that God
is not the worker or efiicient cause of faith, or
that faith is begotten in man without the spirit of
God : for, all those good opinions which we admit
and believe, though they proceed from hearing,
and hearing from teaching, both which are natural,
yet they are the work of God : for, all the works
of nature are his, and they are attributed to the Spi-
rit of God : as for example, Exod. xxviii. 3 : Thou
shalt speak unto all cunning men^ whom I have
filled with the spirit of wisdom^ that they matj
make AarorCs garments for his consecration^ that
he may serve me in the pries fs office. Faith there-
fore, wherewith we believe, is the work of the
Spirit of God in that sense, by which the Spirit of
God giveth to one man wisdom and cunning in
workmanship more than another; and by which he
eflfecteth also in other points pertaining to our or-
dinary life, that one man believeth that, which,
upon the same grounds, another doth not ; and one
man reverenceth the opinion, and obeyeth the com-
mands of his superior, and others not.

VOL. IV. F

66 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. XI. 1 0. And seeing our faith^ that the Scriptures are
the word of God^ began from the confidence and
trust we repose in the church ; there can be no
doubt but that their interpretation of the same
Scriptures (when any doubt or controversy shall
arise, by which this fundamental point, that Jesus
Christ is come in the fleshy may be called in ques-
tion) is safer for any man to trust to, than his aum^
whether reasoning or spirit y that is to say, his own
opinion.

11. Now concerning men's qffections to God-
wardy they are not the same always that are de-
scribed in the chapter concerning passions. There^
for to love, is to be delighted with the image or
conception of the thing loved ; but God is xmcon-
ceivable : to love God therefore, in the Scripture,
is to obey his commandments y and to love one an--
other. Also to trust God, is diflFerent from our
trusting one another : for, when a man trusteth a
man, (chap. ix. sect. 9) he layeth aside his own
endeavours : but if we do so in our trust to God
Almighty, we disobey him ; and how shall we trust
to him whom we know we disobey ? To trust to
God Almighty therefore, is to refer to his good
pleasure all that is above our own power to effect :
and this is all one with acknowledging one only
God, which is the first commandment. And to
trust in Christy is no more but to acknowledge him
for God ; which is the fundamental article of our
Christian faith : and consequently, to trust, rely,
or, as some express it, to cast and roll ourselves on
Christ, is the same thing with the fundamental
point of faith, namely, that Jesus Christ is the son
of the living God.

HUMAN NATURE. 67

12. To honour God internally in the heart, is chap.xi,
the same thing with that we ordinarily call honour ' — • — '
amongst men : for it is nothing but the acknoto-
ledging of his power ; and the signs thereof, the
same with the signs of the honour due to our supe-
riors, mentioned chapter viii. section 6, viz, to
praise^ to magnify ^ to hlesSy to pray to him, to
thank him, to give oblations and sacrifices to him,
to give attention to his word, to speak to him in
prayer with consideration, to come into his pre-
sence with humble gesture, and in decent mannen
and to adorn his worship with magnificence and
cost : and these are natural signs of our honouring
him internally : and therefore the contrary hereof,
to neglect prayer, to speak to him extempore, to
come to church slovenly, to adorn the place of his
worship worse than our own houses, to take up his
name in every idle discourse, are the manifest signs
of contempt of the Divine Majesty. There be other
signs which are arbitrary ; as, to be uncovered, as
we be here, to put ofl^ their shoes, as Moses at the
fiery bush, and some other of that kind, which in
their own nature are indifferent, till, to avoid inde-
cency and discord, it be otherwise determined by
common consent.

CHAPTER XII.

1. It hath been declared already, how external
objects cause conceptions, and conceptions, appe-
tite and fear, which are the first nnperceived
beginnings of our actions : for either the actions
inunediately follow the first appetite, as when we
do anything upon a sudden ; or else to our first

F 2

68 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. xiT, appetite there succeedeth some conception of e\il
' • ' to happen to us by such actions, which is fear, and
which holdeth us from proceeding. And to that
fear may succeed a new appetite, and to that appe-
tite another fear alternately, till the action be either
done, or some accident come between, to make it
impossible ; and so this alternate appetite and fear
ceaseth. This alternate succession of appetite
and fear during all the time the action is in our
power to do or not to do, is that we call delibera-
tion ; which name hath been given it for that part
of the definition wherein it is said that it lasteth so
long as the action, whereof we deliberate, is in our
power : for, so long we have liberty to do or not
to do ; and deliberation signifieth a taking away of
our own liberty.

2. Deliberation therefore requireth in the action
deliberated two conditions ; one, that it h^ future ;
the other, that there be hope of doing it, or possi-
bility of not doing it ; for, appetite and fear are
expectations of the future ; and there is no expec-
tation of good, Tvithout hope ; or of evil, without
possibility: of necessaries therefore there is no
deliberation. In deliberation, the last appetite, as
also the last fear, is called will^ viz. the last appe-
tite, will to do, or will to omit. It is all one there-
fore to say will and last will : for, though a man
express his present inclination and appetite con-
cerning the disposing of his goods, by words or
wTitings; yet shall it not be counted his will, be-
cause he hath still liberty to dispose of them other-
ways : but when death taketh away that liberty,
then it is his will.

3. Voluntary actions and omissions are such as

HUMAN NATURE. 69

have beginning in the will ; all other are involun- chap, xh
tary^ or mixed voluntary ; involuntary^ such as he ' ' '
doth by necessity of nature, as when he is pushed, or
falleth, and thereby doth good or hurt to another :
mixed, such as participate of both ; as when a man
is carried to prison, going is voluntary, to the prison,
is involuntary : the example of him that throweth
his goods out of a ship into the sea, to save his
person,* is of an action altogether voluntary : for,
there is nothing therein involuntary, but the hard-
ness of the choice, which is not his action, but the
action of the winds : what he himself doth, is no
more against his will, than to flee from danger is
against the will of him that seeth no other means
to preserve himself.

4. Voluntary also are the actions that proceed
from sudden anger, or other sudden appetite in
such men as can discern good or evil : for, in them
the time precedent is to be judged deliberation :
for then also he deliberateth in what cases it is
good to strike, deride, or do any other action pro-
ceeding from anger or other such sudden passion.

5. Appetite, fear, hope, and the rest of the
passions are not called voluntary ; for they pro-
ceed 7iot from, hut are the will ; and the will is
not voluntary : for, a man can no more say he will
will, than he will will will, and so make an infinite
repetition of the word [will] ; which is absurd,
and insignificant.

6. Forasmuch as will to do is appetite, and will
to omit, fear ; the cause of appetite and fear is
the cause also of our will : but the propounding of
the benefits and of harms, that is to say, of reward
and punishment, is the cause of our appetite, 2tnd

70 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. XII. of our fears, and therefore also of our wills, so fer
' ' ' forth as we believe that sueh rewards and benefits
as are propounded, shall arrive unto us ; and con-
sequently, our wilU follow our opinions, as our
actions follow our fcilh ; in which sense they say
truly, and properly, that say the world is governed
by opinion.

7. When the wills of many concur to one and
the same action and effect, this concourse of their
wills is called consent ; by which we must not un-
derstand one will of many men, for every man
hath his several will, but many wills to the pro-
ducing of one effect : but when the wills of two
divers men produce such actions as are recipro-
cally resistant one to the other, this is called
contention; and, being upon the persons one of
another, battle : whereas actions proceeding from
consent^ are mutual ai(L

8. When many wills are involved or included in the
will of one or more consenting, (which how it may
be, shall be hereafter declared) then is that involv-
ing of many wills in one or more, called union.

9. In deliberations interrupted, as they may be
by diversion of other business, or by sleep, the last
appetite of such part of the deliberation is called
intention, or purpose.

CHAPTER XIII.

1. Having spoken of the powers and acts of the
mind, both cognitive and motive, considered in
every man by himself] without relation to others ;
it will fall fitly into this chapter, to speak of the
effects of the same power one upon anotlier; which

HUMAN NATURE. fl

effects are also the signs, by which one taketh dHAP; xiii:
notice what aiibther conceiveth and intendeth. Of ' ^'""^
these sigtis, sofhe are such as cannot easily be
couhterfeited ; as actions and gestures, especially
if they be sudden, wheteof I have mentioned some ;
(for example, look in chapter ix.) with the several
passidns whereof they are signs : others there ietre
which may be counterfeited ; and those are words
or speech ; of the use and effects whereof, I am
to speak in this place.

2. The first use of language, is the (expression
of our conceptions, that is, the begetting in one
atiother the same conceptions that we have in our-
selveis; and this is called teaching; wherein, if
the conception of him that teacheth continually
accompany his words, beginning at something true
in experience, then it begetteth the like evidence
in the hearer that understandeth them, and maketh
him to know something, which he is therefore said
to learn : but if there be not such evidence, then
such teaching is called persuasion, and begetteth
no more in the hearer, than what is in the speaker's
bare Opinion. And the signs of two opinions coti-
ttadictdry one to another; namely, affirmation
abd negation of the same thing, is called contro^
tersy: but both affirmations, or both nejgutions,
consent in opinion.

3. The infallible sign of t&aching exactly, and
without error, is this, that no man hath ev&r taught
the contrary: not that few, how few soever, if
any ; for commonly truth is on the side of a few,
rather than of the multitude : but when in opinions
and questions considered and discussed by many,
it happeneth that not any one of the men that so
discussed them differ from another, then it may be

72 HUMAN NATURE.

iHAP. XIII. justly inferred, they know what they teach^ and
^"^ ' ' that otherwise they do not. And this appears
most manifestly to them that have considered the
divers subjects wherein they have exercised their
pens, and the divers ways in which they have pro-
ceeded, together with the diversity of the success
thereof: for, those men who have taken in hand to
consider nothing else but the comparison of mag-
7iitud<^Sy numbers, times, and motions, and how
their proportions are to one another, have thereby
been the authors of all those excellencies by which
we differ from such savage people as now inhabit
divers places in America; and as have been the
inhabitants heretofore of those countries where at
this day arts and sciences do most flourish : for,
from the studies of these men, have proceeded
whatsoever cometh to us for ornament by naviga-
tion, and whatsover we have beneficial to human
society by the division, distinction, and portraiting
the face of the earth ; whatsoever also we have by
the account of times, avA foresight of the course
of heaven; whatsoever by measuring distances,
planes, and solids of all sorts; and whatsoever
either elegant or defensible in building : all which
supposed away, what do we differ from the wildest
of the Indians ? Yet to this day was it never heard
of, that there was any controversy concerning any
conclusion in this subject; the science whereof
hath nevertheless been continually amplified and
enriched by the conclusions of most difficult and
profound speculation. The reason whereof is ap-
parent to every man that looketh into their writings;
for they proceed from most low and humble prin-
ciples, evident even to the meanest capacity ; going
on slowly, and with most scrupulous ratiocination;

HUMAN NATURE. 73

viz. from the imposition of names, they infer the chap, xiii
truth of their first propositions ; and from two oi
the first, a third; and from any two of the three,
^, fourth; and so on, according to the steps oj
science, mentioned chapter vi. section 4. On the
other side, those men who have written concerning
the faculties, passions, and manners of men, that is
to say, of moral philosophy , and oi policy, govern-
ment, and laws, whereof there be infinite volumes,
have been so far from removing doubt and con-
troversy in the questions they have handled, that
they have very much multiplied the same: nor
dodi any man at this day so much as pretend to
know more than hath been delivered two thousand
years ago by Aristotle : and yet every man thinks
that in this subject he knoweth as much as any
other ; supposing there needeth thereunto no study
but that accrueth imto them by natural wit; though
they play, or employ their mind otherwise in the
purchase of wealth or place. The reason whereof
is no other, than that in their writings and dis-
courses they take for principles those opinions
which are already vulgarly received, whether true
or false ; being for the most part false. There is
therefore a great deal of difference between teach-
ing and persuading ; the sign of this being con-
troversy.; the sign oiih^ former, no controversy.
4. There be two sorts of men that commonly be
called learned: one is that sort that proceedeth
evidently from humble principles, as is described
in the last section ; and those men are called ma-
thematici : the other are they that take up maxims
from their education, and from the autlwrity of
men, or of custom, and take the habitual discourse
of tlie tongue for ratiocination ; and these are

74 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. xni. called dogmatici. Now seeing in the last section
' ' ' those we call mathematici are absolved of the crime
of breeding controversy, and they that pretend not
to learning cannot be accused, the fault lieth alto-
gether in the dogmatics^ that is to say, those that
are imperfectly learned, and with passion press to
have their opinions pass everywhere for truth,
without any evident demonstration either from
experience, or from places of Scripture of uncon-
troverted interpretation.

5. The expression of those conceptions which
catt^se in us the experience of good while we deli-
berate, as also of those which cause our expecta-
tion of e\dl, is that which we call counselling, and
is the internal deliberation of the mind concerning
what we ourselves are to do or not to do. The
consequences of our actions are our counsellors^
by alternate succession in the mind. So in the
counsel which a man taketh from other men, the
counsellors alternately do make appear the con-
sequences of the action, and do not any of them
deliberate, but furnish among them all, him that is
counselled with arguments whereupon to deliberate
with himself.

6. Another use of speech is expression of appe-
tite, intention, and will ; as the appetite of know-
ledge by interrogation ; appetite to have a thibg
done by another, as request, prayer, petition : ex-
pressions of our purpose or intention, as promise,
which is the affirmation or negation of some action
to be done in the future : threatening, which is the
promise of evil ; and commanding, which is that
speech by which we signify to another our appetite
or desire to have any thing done, or left undone,
for reasons contained in the will itself: for it is

^

HUMAN NATURE. 75

not properly said, Sic volo, sic jubeo, without that chap. xiii.
other cLetuse, Stet pro ratione voluntas : and when ' ' '
the command is a sufficient reason to move us to
action, then is that Command called a law.

7. Another use of speech is instigation and ap-
peasing, by which we increase or diminish one
another*s passion : it is the satiae thing with per-
suasion; the difference not being real; for, the
begetting of opinion and passion is the same. But
whereas in persuasion we aim at getting opinion

from passion ; hercj the end is, to raise passion
from opinion. And as in raising an opinion froih
passion, any premises are good enough to enforce
the desired conclusion ; so, in raising passion from
opinion, it is no matter whether the opinion be
true or false, or the narration historical or fabu-
lous; for, not the truths but the image, maketh
passion: and a tragedy, well acted, affecteth no
less than a murder.

8. Though words be the signs we have of one
another's opinions and intentions, because the e^ui-
vocation of them is so frequent according to the
diversity of contexture, and of the company where-
with they go, which, the presence of him that
speaketh, our sight of his actions, and conjecture
of his intentions, must help to discharge us of ; it
must therefore be extremely hard to find the opi-
nions and meaning of those men that are gone from
us long ago, and have left us no other signification
thereof than their books, which cannot possibly be
understood without history, to discover those afore-
mentioned circumstances, and also without great
prudence to observe them.

9. When it happeneth that a man signifieth unto
two contradictory opioions, whereof the Qne is

76 HUMAN NATURE.

CHAP. Mil. clearly and directly signified, and the other either
* • — ' drawn from that by conseqtience, or not known to
be contradictory to it ; then, when he is not pre-
sent to explicate himself better, we are to take the
former for his opinion ; for that is clearly signified
to be his, and directly ; whereas the other might
proceed from error in the deduction, or ignorance
of the repugnancy. The like also is to be held in
two contradictory expressions of a man's intention
and will, for the same reason.

10. Forasmuch as whosoever speaketh to another,
intendeth thereby to make him understand what
he saith, if he speak unto him either in a language
which he that heareth imderstandeth not, or use
any word in other sense than he believeth is the
sense of him that heareth, he intendeth also not to
make him understand what he saith ; which is a
contradiction of himself. It is therefore always to
be supposed, that he which intendeth not to deceive,
alloweth the private interpretation of his speech to
him to whom it is addressed.

1 1 . Silence, in him that believeth that the same
shall be taken for a sign of his intent, is a sign
thereof indeed: for, if he did not consent, the
labour of speaking so much as to declare the same,
is so little, as it is to be presumed he would have
done it.

CONCLUSION.

Thus have we considered the nature of man so far
as was requisite for the finding out the first and
most simple elements wherein the compositions of
politic rules and laws are lastly resolved; which
was my present purpose.

^

DE CORPORE POLITICO :

OR THE

ELEMENTS OF LAW,

MORAL AND POLITIC,

WITH DISCOURSES UPON SEVERAL HEADS:

AS

OF THE LAW OF NATURE; OF OATHS AND COVENANTS;
OF SEVERAL KINDS OF GOVERNMENT;

WITH

THE CHANGES AND REVOLUTIONS OF THEM.

TO THE READER.

Reader^
You may be pleased to take notice, that the firgt
part of this work depends upon a former treatise of
Human Nature, written by Mr. Hobbes, and by a
friend of his committed to the press for the benefit of
mankind. It was thought fit, that nothing of so worthy
an author should be left unprinted, especially consi-
dering, that this piece is most useful for the society
of reasonable creatures, being the grounds and prin-
ciples of policy, without which there would be nothing
but confusion in the world. I am confident, if men's
minds were but truly fixed upon the centre of this
discourse, they would not prove such weathercocks,
to be turned about with the wind of every false
doctrine, and vain opinion. We should then be free
from those disorders which threaten distraction to
the soul, and destruction to the commonwealth. But
let others write never so well, if our practice do not
second their instructions, we may be wise enough to

TO THE READER.

foresee our misery, but never know how to prevent
it. What pity is it, that such rare conclusions as
these are, should produce no other eflFect, to inform
our knowledge, and confute our conversation, whilst
we neglect the truth that is apprehended. Yet there
is some hope, that such observers, whose wisdom
hath received the stamp of goodness, will improve
their skill to a real advancement of those benefits,
which lie hoarded up in this curious cabinet. To
whose use and behoof, these excellent notions are
commended, as the best that ever were writ in this
kind, and may serve for a general ground and founda-
tion to all regular conceptions, that concern the
essence and existence of man, the government of
kingdoms and commonwealths, and by consequence
our eternal salvation.

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART THE FIRST.

CHAPTER I.

1, 2. Men by nature equal. 3. By vain glory indisposed to
allow equality with themselves, to others. 4. Apt to provoke
another by comparisons. 5. Apt to encroach one upon an-
other. 6. Right defined. 7. Right to the end, implieth
right to the means. 8. Every man his own judge by nature.

9. Every mans strength and knowledge for his own use.

10. Every man by nature hath right to all things. 11. War
and peace defined. 12. Men by nature in the state of war.
13. In manifest inequality might b right. 14. Reason dic-
tateth peace.

1 . In a former treatise of humaii nature already part. i.
printed, hath been set forth the whole nature of . \' .
man, consisting in the powers natural of his body Men by
and mind, and may all be comprehended in these "* "" ^
four, strength of body, experience, reason, and
passion.

2. In this, it will be expedient to consider in
what estate of security this our nature hath placed
us, and what probability it hath left us, of continu-
ing and preserving ourselves against the violence
of one another. And first, if we consider how
little odds there is of strength or knowledge, be-
tween men of mature age, and with how great
facility he that is the weaker in strength or in wit,
or in both, may utterly destroy the power of the

VOL. IV. G

82 DB CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. Stronger ; since there needeth but little .force to

. ^ . the taking away of a man*s life, we may conclude,

that men considered in mere nature, ought to admit

amongst themselves equality; and that he that

claimeth no more, may be esteemed moderate.

Bjrmnf^Lorj 3. Ou thc othcr side, considering the great

Stotri^ diflFerence there is in men, from the diversity of

i^rto!^tos. *^^"' passions, how some are vainly glorious, and

hope for precedency and superiority above their

fellows, not only when they are equal in power,

but also when they are inferior ; we must needs

acknowledge that it must necessarily follow, that

those men who are moderate, and look for no more

but equality of nature, shall be obnoxious to the

force of others, that will attempt to subdue them.

And from hence shall proceed a general diffidence

in mankind, and mutual fear one of another.

Apt to pro. 4, Further, since men by natural passion are

by eompaiiwDs. divcrs ways offensive one to another, every man

thinking well of himself, and hating to see the

same in others, they must needs provoke one an^

other by words, and other signs of contempt and

hatred, which are incident to all comparison, till

at last they must determine the pre-eminence by

strength and force of body.

Apt to CO. 5^ Moreover, considering that many men^s ap-

opoD anouier. pctitcs caiTy thcm to one and the same end; which

end sometimes can neither be enjoyed in common,

nor divided, it followeth, that the stronger must

enjoy it alone, and that it be decided by battle who

is the stronger. And thus the greatest part of men,

upon no assurance of odds, do nevertheless, through

vanity, or comparison, or appetite, provoke the rest,

that otherwise would be contented with equality.

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 83

6. And forasmuch as necessity of nature maketh part i.
men to will and desire honum sihij that which is . \ ^
good for themselves, and to avoid that which is lught defined.
hurtful ; but most of all, the terrible enemy of na-
ture, death, from whom we expect both the loss of
all power, and also the greatest of bodily pains in
the losing ; it is not against reason, that a man
doth all he can to preserve his own body and limbs
both from death and pain. And that which is not
against reason, men call rights or jus, or hlame-
less liberty of using our own natural power and
ability. It is therefore a right of nature, that every
man may preserve his own life and limbs, with all
the power he hath.

7- And because where a man hath right to the Right to
end, and the end cannot be attained without the piieth right
means, that is, without such things as are necessary ^ ^*® '"®^*
to the end, it is consequent that it is not against
reason, and therefore right, for a man to use all
means, and do whatsoever action is necessary for
the preservation of his body.

8. Also, every man by rieht of nature, is iudffe Every
infiself of the necessity of the means, and of the judge by natun
greatness of the danger. For if it be against rea-
son, thdt I be judge of mine own danger myself,

then it ii reason, that another man be judge thereof.
But tli^ same reason that maketh another man
judge of those things that concern me, maketh
me also judge of that that concemeth him. And
thereftre I have reason to judge of his sentence,
whether it be for my benefit, or not.

9. As a man's judgment in right of nature is to Every man-a
be employed for his own benefit, so also the strength, L'^wkd^for
knowledge, and art, of every man is then rightly ^* ""^ "*'*

G 2

84 DR CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. employed, when he useth it for himself ; else must
^ \' . not a man have right to preserve himself.
Erery 1 0. Everv man by nature hath right to all things,

to^uthrif^t that is to say, to do whatsoever he listeth to whom
to au ihiQgs. j^g listeth, to possess^ use, and enjoy all things he
will and can. For seeing all things he willeth,
must therefore be good unto him in his own judg-
ment, because he willeth them, and may tend to
his preservation some time or other, or he may
judge so, and we have made him judge thereof,
section 8, it foUoweth, that all things may rightly
also be done by him. And for this cause it is rightly
ssiidy Natura dedit omnia omnibus, that Nature hath
given all things to all men ; insomuch, that jnt
and utile, right and profit, is the same thing. But
that right of all men to all things, is in effect no
better than if no man had right to any thing. For
there is little use and benefit of the right a man
hath, when another as strong, or stronger than
himself, hath right to the same.
waraod 11. Sccing thcu to the offensiveness of man's

^"^ nature one to another, there is added a right of

every man to every thing, whereby one man in-
vade th with right, and another man with right
resisteth, and men live thereby in perpetual diffi-
dence, and study how to preoccupate each other;
the estate of men in this natural liberty^ is the
estate of war. For war is nothing else but that
time wherein the will and contention of contend-
ing by force, is either by words or actions suffi-
ciently declared ; and the time which is not war,
is peace.
Men by 12. The estate of hostility and war being such,

rtate'lr war. as thereby nature itself is destroyed, and men kill

Ik

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 85

one another, (as we know also that it is, both by part i.
the experience of savage nations that live at this . ^; .
day, and by the histories of our ancestors the old
inhabitants of Germany, and other now civil coun-
tries, where we find the people few, and short
lived, and without the ornaments and comforts of
life, which by peace and society are usually invented
and procured) he therefore that desireth to live in
such an estate as is the estate of liberty and right
of all to all, contradicteth himself. For every man
by natural necessity desireth his own good, to which
this estate is contrary, wherein we suppose conten-
tion between men by nature equal, and able to
destroy one another.

1 3. Seeing this right of protecting ourselves by .^° n»nif«t
our own discretion and force, proceedeth from might u right.
danger, and that danger from the equality between
men's forces, much more reason is there, that a
man prevent such equality before the danger
Cometh, and before the necessity of battle. A man
therefore that hath another man in his power to
rule or govern, to do good to, or harm, hath right,
by the advantage of this his present power, to take
caution at his pleasure, for his security against
that other in time to come. He therefore that
hath already subdued his adversary, or gotten into
his power any other, that either by infancy, or
weakness, is unable to resist him, by right of nature
may take the best caution, that such infant, or
such feeble and subdued person can give him, of
being ruled and governed by him for the time to
come. For seeing we intend always our own safety
and preservation, we manifestly contradict that
our intention, if we willingly dismiss such a one.

86

DE CORPORS POLITICO.

PART I.
1.

Rmumn
dicUletb

and suffer him at once to gather strength and be our
enemy. Out of which may also be collected, that
irresistible might, in the state of nature, is right.

14. But since it is supposed by the equality of
strength, and other natural faculties of men, that
no man is of might sufficient, to assure himself for
any long time, of preserving himself thereby, whilst
he remaineth in the state of hostility and war;
reason therefore dictateth to every man for his
own good, to seek after peace, as far forth as there
is hope to attain the same ; and strengthen himself
with all the help he can procure, for his own
defence against those, from whom such peace can-
not be obtained ; and to do all those things whidi
necessarily conduce thereimto.

CHAPTER 11.

1. The law of nature consisteth not in consent of men, but rea-
son. 2. That every man divest himself of the right he hath to
all tilings, is one precept of nature. 3. What it is to relin-
quish and transfer one's right. 4. The will to transfer, and
the will to accept, both necessary to the passing away of right
5. Right not transferred by words defutnro only. 6. Words
de fnturoy together with other signs of the will, may transfer
right. 7. Free gift defined. 8. Contract, and the sorts of it
9. Covenant defined. 10. Contract of mutual trust, is of no
validity in the estate of hostility. 11. No covenant of men
but with one another. 12. Covenant how dissolved. 13. Cove-
nant extorted bv fear, in the law of nature valid. 14. Cove-
nant contrary to former covenant, void. 15. An oath defined.

16. Oath to be administered to every man in his own religion.

17. Oath addeth not to the obligation. 18. Covenants bind
but to endeavour.

TheUwof n.vl. What it is wc Call thc law of nature, is not
agreed upon by those, that have hitherto ¥nritten.

i

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 8?

For the most part, such writers as have occasion part i.
to affirm, that anything is against the law of nature, ^ \ .
do allege no more than this, that it is against the notincooflent <
consent of all nations, or the wisest and most civil ^^^ °* "**"
nations. But it is not agreed upon, who shall
judge which nations are the wisest. Others make
that against the law of nature, which is contrary to
the consent of all mankind ; which definition can-
not be allowed, because then no man could offend
against the law of nature ; for the nature of every
man is contained under the nature of mankind.
But forasmuch as all men are carried away by the
violence of their passion, and by evil customs do
those things which are commonly said to be against
the law of nature ; it is not the consent of passions,
or consent in some error gotten by custom, that
makes the law of nature. Reason is no less of the
nature of man than passion, and is the same in all
men, because all men agree in the will to be directed
and governed in the way to that which they desire
to attain, namely, their own good, which is the
work of reason : there can therefore be no other
law of nature than reason, nor no other precepts
of natural lawy than those which declare unto us
the ways of peace, where the same may be obtained,
and of defence where it may not.

2. One precept of the law of nature therefore is That erery nu
this, that every man divest himself of the right he tJ right he hai
hath to all things hy nature. For when divers ^^■"^^*|''
men having right not only to all things else, but to '»»*^-
one another's persons, if they use the same, there
ariseth thereby invasion on the one part, and resist-
ance on the other, which is wary and therefore
contrary to the law of nature, the sum whereof
consisteth in making peace.

88 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. 3. When a man divesteth and putteth from himself

. ^' __. his right, he either simply relinquisheth it, or trans-

\Miat it u ferreth the same to another man. To relinquish

mndt^^T it, is by sufficient signs to declare, that it is his

**^ * '«*»* will no more to do that action, which of right he

might have done before. To transfer right to

another, is by sufficient signs to declare to that

other accepting thereof, that it is his will not to

resist, or hinder him, according to that right he

had thereto before he transferred it. For seeing

that by nature every man hath right to every thing,

it is impossible for a man to transfer unto another

any right that he had not before. And therefore

all that a man doth in transferring of right, is no

more but a declaring of the will, to suffer him, to

whom he hath so transferred his right, to make

benefit of the same, without molestation. As for

example, when a man giveth his lands or goods to

another, he taketh from himself the right to enter

into, and make use of the said lands or goods, or

otherwise to hinder him of the use of what he hath

given.

TbewiUtotTMM. 4^ In transferrins: of right, two things therefore

fer. and the win . _ i /• i . i

to .wept, both are required : one on the part of him that transfer-
^l!!b!^iJ^Tofreth, which is a sufficient signification of his will
"^^^ therein ; the other, on the part of him to whom it

is transferred, which is a sufficient signification of
his acceptation thereof. Either of these fGuling,
the right remaineth where it was : nor is it to be
supposed, that he which giveth his right to one
that accepteth it not, doth thereby simply relin-
quish it, and transfer it to whomsoever will receive
it : inasmuch as the cause of transferring the same
to one, rather than to another, is in the one, rather
than in the rest.

^

•DE CORPORE POLITICO. 89

5. When there appear no other signs that a man part i.
hath reUnquished, or transferred his right, but only . ^ .
words, it behoveth that the same be done in words, iwgbt not
that signify the present time, or the time past, and b^onu «fe
not only the time to come. For he that saith of ^"'""^ ^^'^
the time to come, as for example, to-morrow I will

give, declareth evidently, that he hath not yet
given. The right, therefore, remaineth in him to-
day, and so continues, till he have given actually.
But he that saith, I give, presently, or have given
to another anything, to have and enjoy the same
to-morrow, or any other time further, hath now
actually transferred the said right, which otherwise
he should have had at the time that the other is
to enjoy it.

6. But because words alone are not a sufficient word» de-
declaration of the mind, as hath been shown with other sign
chapter xiii. section 8, words spoken de futurOj''^^^ ^l
when the will of him that speaketh them may be
gathered by other signs, may be taken very often

as if they were meant de prcesenti : for when it
appeareth, that he that giveth, would have his
words so imderstood by him to whom he giveth, as
if he did actually transfer his right, then he must
needs be understood to will all that is necessary
to the same.

7. When a man transferreth any right of his to Free gui define
another, without consideration of reciprocal benefit,

past, present, or to come, this is called free gift.
And in free gift, no other words can be binding,
but those which are de prcesenti, or de prteterito :
for being de futuro only, they transfer nothing,
nor can they be understood, as if they proceeded
firom the will of the giver ; because being a free

90 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART L gift, it carrieth with it no obligation greater than
^ ^ that which is enforced by the words. For he that
promiseth to give, without any other consideration
but his own affection, so long as he hath not given,
deliberateth still, according as the causes of his
affections continue, or diminish ; and he that deli-
berateth, hath not yet willed, because the vnll is
the last act of his deliberation. He that promiseth
therefore, is not thereby a donor ^ but doson; which
name was given to that Antiochus, that promised
often, but seldom gave.
Contract, and g. Whcu a mau transfcrrcth his rifi'ht upon con-

the aurts of it , i

sideration of reciprocal benefit, this is not free gift,
but mutual donation, and is called contract. And
in all contracts, either both parties presently per-
form, and put each other into a certainty and as-
surance of enjoying what they contract for, as when
men buy or sell, or barter ; or one party perfonneth
presently, and the other promiseth, as when one
selleth upon trust ; or else neither party performeth
presently, but trust one another. And it is impos-
sible there should be any kind of contract besides
these three. For either both the contractors trust,
or neither ; or else one trusteth, and the other not
c<Mrenant 9. In all coutracts where there is trust, the pro-
mise of him that is trusted, is called a covenant.
And this, though it be a promise, and of the time
to come, yet it doth transfer the right, when that
time Cometh, no less than an actual donation. For
it is a manifest sign, that he which did perform,
understood it was the will of him that was trusted,
to perform also. Promises therefore, upon consi-
deration of reciprocal benefit, are covenants and
signs of the will, or last act of deliberation, whereby

k

DS CORPORE POLITICO. 91

the liberty of performing, or not performing, is parti.
taken away, and consequently are obligatory. For . ^ .
where liberty ceaseth, there beginneth obligation.

10. Nevertheless, in contracts that consist of such contract of
mutual trust, as that nothing be by either party per- is of no noi.
formed for the present, when the contract is between ^^"t^
such as are not compellable, he that performeth

first, considering the disposition of men to take ad-
vantage of every thing for their benefit, doth but
betray himself thereby to the covetousness, or other
passion of him with whom he contracteth. And
therefore such covenants are of none effect. For
there is no reason why the one should perform first,
if the other be likely not to perform afterward. And
whether he be likely or not, he that doubteth, shall
be judge himself, as hath been said chap. i. sect. 8^
as long as they remain in the estate and liberty of
BBtore. But when there shall be such power coer-
cive over both the parties, as shall deprive them of
their private judgments in this point, then may
such covenants be effectual, seeing he that per-
formeth first shall have no reasonable cause to
doubt of the performance of the other, that may be
compelled thereunto.

1 1 . And forasmuch as in all covenants, and con- no corenant oi
tracts, and donations, the acceptance of him to^a^^nhL.
whom the right is transferred, is necessary to the
essence of those covenants, donations, &c., it is im-
possible to make a covenant or donation to any,

that by nature, or absence, are unable, or if able, do
not actually declare their acceptation of the same.
First of all, therefore, it is impossible for any man
to make a covenant with God Almighty, further
than it hath pleased him to declare who shall re-

92 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART I. ceive and accept of the said covenant in his name.

^ * Also it is impossible to make covenant with those
living creatures^ of whose wills we have no sufficient
si^y for want of common Iang:nage.

connuiic 12. A covenant to do any action at a certain

time and place^ is then dissolved by the covenanter,
when that time cometh, either by the performance,
or bv the violation. For a covenant is void that is
once impossible. But a covenant not to do, without
time limit eil, which is as much as to say, a cove-
nant never to do. is dissolved by the covenanter
then ouh\ when he violateth it, or dieth. And
j2:eneralh\ iill covenants are dischai^eable by the
iH)veuantee, to whose benefit, and by whose right,
lie that maketh the covenant is obliged. This right
therefore of the covenantee relinquished, is a re*
lease of the covenant. And universally, for the
same reason, all oblisracions are determinable at the
will of the oblia:er.

cowiumi«- 13, It is a question often moved, whether such

ill the ia« k^ covenants oblige, 5\s lure extorted from men by fear.

"* "'^ "" As for example, whether if a man for fear of death,
hath promiseil to give a thief an hundred pounds
the next day, and not discover him ; whether such
covenant be obligatory, or not. And though in
some cases such covenant may be void, yet it is
not therefore void, because extorted by fear. For
there appeareth no reason, why that which we do
ujwn fear, should be less firm than that which we
do for covetousness. For both the one and the
other maketh the action volimtary. And if no
covenant should be good, that proceedeth from
fear of death, no conilitions of peace between
enemies, nor any laws, could be of force, which are

k

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 93

all consented to from that fear. For who would part l
lose the liberty that nature hath given him, of . ^; .
governing himself by his own will and power, if
they feared not death in the retaining of it ? What
prisoner in war might be trusted to seek his ransom,
and ought not rather to be killed, if he were not
tied by the grant of his life, to perform his pro-
mise ? But after the introduction of policy and laws,
the case may alter ; for if by the law the perform-
ance of such a covenant be forbidden, then he that
promiseth anything to a thief, not only may, but
must refuse to perform it. But if the law forbid
not the performance, but leave it to the will of the
promiser, then is the performance still lawful : and
the covenant of things lawful is obligatory, even
towards a thief.

14. He that giveth, promiseth or covenanteth to covenant con.
one, and after, giveth, promiseth, or covenanteth corenant, void.
the same to another, maketh void the latter act.

For it is impossible for a man to transfer that right •
which he himself hath not ; and that right he hath
not, which he himself hath before transferred.

15. An oath is a clause annexed to a promise, ^ o*^ •J«^»«>-
containing a renunciation of God's mercy by him

that promiseth, in case he perform not as far as is
lawful and possible for him to do. And this ap-
peareth by the words which make the essence of
the oath, so help me God. So also was it amongst
the heathen. And the form of the Romans was,
Thou Jupiter kill him that hreaketh, as I kill this
beast. The intention therefore of an oath being
to provoke vengeance upon the breakers of cove-
nant ; it is to no purpose to swear by men, be they
never so great, because their punishment by divers

94 DB CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. accidents may be avoided, whether they will, or
^ , no, but God's punishment not. Though it were a
custom of many nations, to swear by the life of
their princes ; yet those princes being ambitious
of divine honour, give sufficient testimony, that
they believed, nothing ought to be sworn by, but
the Deity.
Oiihtoiw 16. And seeing men cannot be afraid of the

to^J^S^^hi power they believe not, and an oath is to no pur-
hb own Rfigum. pose, without fcaT of him they swear by, it is
necessary that he that sweareth, do it in that form
which himself admitteth in his own reli^on, and
not in that form which he useth, that putteth him
to the oath. For though all men may know by
nature, that there is an Almighty power, neverthe-
less they believe not, that they swear by him in
any other form or name, than what their own,
which they think the true, religion teacheth them.
Oath addeth not 1 7. And by the definition of an oath, it appeareth
*^ that it addeth not a greater obligation to perform
the covenant sworn, than the covenant carrieth in
itself, but it putteth a man into a greater danger,
and of greater punishment,
coroante 18. Covenants and oaths are de voluntariis^ that

endearour. is, dc possibiUbus. Nor cau the covenantee under-
stand the covenanter to promise impossibles ; for
they fall not under deliberation : and consequently,
(by chap. xiii. sect. 10 of the Treatise of Human
Naturey which maketh the covenantee interpreter)
no covenant is understood to bind further, than
to our best endeavour, either in performance of the
thing promised, or in something equivalent.

li

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 95

CHAPTER III.

1. That men stand to their covenants. 2. Injury defined. 3.
That injury is done only to the covenantee. 4. The signifi-
cation of those names, just, unjust. 5. Justice not rightly
divided into commutative, and distributive. 6. It is a law of
nature, that he that is trusted, turn not that trust to the damage
of him that trusteth. 7. Ingratitude defined. 8. It is a law
of nature, to endeavour to accommodate one another : 9. And
that man forgive upon caution for the future: 10. And that
revenge ought to respect the future only : 11. That reproach
and contempt declared, is against the law of nature : 12. That
indifierence of commerce is of the law of nature: 13. That
messengers employed to procure or maintain peace, ought to
be safe by the law of nature.

1. It is a common saying that nature maketh no- parti.
thing in vain. And it is most certain, that as the ^ ^; ^
tmth of a conclusion, is no more but the truth of That men
the premises that make it; so the force of the covauuits.
conimand, or law of nature, is no more than the
force of the reasons inducing thereunto. There-
fore the law of nature mentioned in the former
chapter, section 2, namely. That every\man should
divest himself of the rights &c. were utterly vain,
and of none effect, if this also were not a law of
the same nature. That every man is obliged to
stand to, and perform^ those covenants he maketh.
For what benefit is it to a man, that any thing be
promised, or given unto him, if he that giveth, or
promiseth, performeth not, or retaineth still the
right of taking back what he hath given ?

2. The breach or violation of covenant, is that injury defined.
which men call injury^ consisting in some action
or omission, which is therefore called unjust. For

96 DE CORPORE POLITICO-

PART I. it is action or omission, without,;//,?, or right, which

, ^ , was transferred or relinquished before. There is

a great similitude between that we call injury, or
injustice in the actions and conversations of men
in the world, and that which is called absurd in
the arguments and disputations of the Schools.
For as he, which is driven to contradict an asser-
tion by him before maintained, is said to be reduced
to an absurdity ; so he that through passion doth,
or omitteth that which before by covenant he pro-
mised to do, or not to omit, is said to commit
injustice ; and there is in every breach of covenant
a contradiction properly so called. For he that
covenanteth, willeth to do, or omit, in the time to
come. And he that doth any action, willeth it in
that present, which is part of the future time con-
tained in the covenant. And therefore he that
violateth a covenant, w^illeth the doing and the not
doing of the same thing, at the same time, which
is a plain contradiction. And so injury is an ab'
surdity of conversation, as absurdity is a kind of
injustice in disputation.
That iiynry is 3. lu all violatiou of coveuaut, (to w^homsoever
ti""cw«L^tee. accrueth the damage) the injury is done only to
him to w^hom the covenant was made. For ex-
ample, if a man covenant to obey his master, and
the master command him to give money to a third,
which he promiseth to do, and doth not, though
this be to the damage of the third, yet the injury
is done to the master only. For he could violate
no covenant with him, with whom none w^as made,
and therefore doth him no injury. For injury
consisteth in violation of covenant by the definition
thereof.

i

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 97

4. The names of ^W/, unjust y justice y injustice j parti.
are equivocal, and signify diversly. For justice ^;
and injustice, when they be attributed to actions, The«gmfication

.n_ ^1 ^1 . .^v . . J • • ^^ *^<*« names,

Signify the same thing with no injury ^ and injury ^ just and nnjiut
and denominate the action just^ or unjust ^ but not
the man so. For they denominate him guilty ^ or
wot guilty. But when justice or injustice, are
attributed to men, they signify pronenessy and
affection and inclination of nature, that is to say,
passions of the mind, apt to produce just and un-
just actions. So that when a man is said to be
just, or unjust ; not the action, but the passion and
aptitude, to do such actions, is considered. And
therefore a just Jhan may have committed an un-
just act ; and an imjust man may have done justly,
not only one, but most of his actions. For there
is an oderunt peccare in the unjust, as well as in
the just, but from different causes. For the unjust
man who abstaineth from injuries for fear of punish-
ment, declareth plainly, that the justice of his
actions dependeth upon civil constitution, from
whence punishments proceed, which would other-
wise in the estate of nature be unjust, according to
the fountain from whence they spring. This dis-
tinction therefore oi justice, and injustice^ ought
to be remembered, that when injustice is taken for
guilty, the action is unjust, but not therefore the
man ; and when justice is taken for guiltlessness,
the actions are just, and yet not always the man.
likewise when justice and injustice are taken for
habits of the mind, the man may be just, or unjust,
and yet not all his actions so.

5. Concerning the justice of actions, the same is Justice
usually divided into two kinds, whereof men call """^ "^ ' ^

VOL. IV. H

» 35 r

Jisiribmtke;

Tie rnirfr zi r^imtiTrjT^:

rxmf jtc^CL-^. rhfi^ Tiiure :n. ^tsraasann. as buying,
3eil:ng. ia»i :iLr::tr:3ir . AJcnteinr. in ening to
e^^rr iiaz. jcirrrrnir "X" ^sKir leaerK. Which £s^
cncdcii i2^ ii:c -¥»•! luiOf. =ia:*aLik:2. a^ Q^urTy whidi
^ ^e -jiTOiiCirif :/ ji.T:i:fi. rcn^siGedi 210c in the in-
e^na^TT :£ ife Ta.-ng? ihanipx^ or £smbated, bat
is. rise iBecio^irr rxiic iije!i. ccctrarr to nature
azai r^&HTc j;s%«;z!ZLe xz.^: iiiesxa^hies above their
feilc »sw Off -wiica. zwciaZzT. saali be spoken here-
after. Azc ?:c ramauM^ittf rsdce placed in bny-
U!^ md 5eZiz2:. ^cosa i^ie ir'nsr bought be nnequl
tj 'irf ^,ce ii-nfc ?:r r:. j« f r^rasmoch as both the
buyer jLr.d :ie ?eGer ir^ xade j^^i^es of the vafaie,
ar:vi j^re ibereOT r%:ci sLd^sbftL there can be no in-

m

jury cc~e oz cither sioe* neither party having
tnis^eiL or cvre'-^LTTgd whi the other. And for
Jijrrri^^w'.w j'^j^ci'j^, wiiioh conszsteth in the distri-
butiou of our own benen^s, seeing a thine is there-
tore $aid to be our own. bei^nse we may dispose d
it at our own plea>ure. it can be no injmy to any
uiaiu though our Ubenilirv be farther extended to-
wiumls another* than towards him; unless we be
thereto obli^i by covenant : and then the injustice
ei>nsisteth in the violation of that covenant, and
not in the inequality of distribution.
II i. « u%k or 6. It hapiH^neth many times that man benefitteth,
ruu*\?rM*X or iH>ntributeth. to the power of another, without
luM. «,4 o»*t . ^*^>veuant, but onlv upon confidence and trust
iu,vM«. ^^i hiH» ^^( obtainins^: the snrace and favour of that other,
whereby he may procure a greater, or no less bene-
fit, and a^ssbtance to himself. For by necessity of

^.

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 99

natare, every man doth in all his voluntary actions part i.
intend some good nnto himself. In this case it is ^ ^' ^
a law of nature, That no man 8%iiffeT him, that thus
trusteth to his charity, or good qffection towards
hivij to be in the worse estate for his trusting.
For if he shaU so do, men will not dare to confer
mutually to each other's defence, nor put themselves
into each other's mercy upon any terms whatso-
ever, but rather abide the utmost and worst event
of hostility ; by which general diffidence, men will
not only be enforced to war, but also afraid to come
so much within the danger of one another, as to
make any overture of peace. But this is to. be un-
de«tood of U.o« onirtht oo,rfer Aeir benefit,
(as I have said) upon trust only, and not for triumph
or ostentation. For as when they do it upon trust,
the end they aimed at, namely to be well used, is
the reward ; so also when they do it for ostenta-
tion, they have the reward in themselves.

7. But seeing in this case there passeth no co- ingntitade
venant, the breach of this law of nature is not to ^^^°*^
be called injury. It hath another name, to wit,
isigratitude.

8. It is also a law of nature. That every man do^^^^ ^^
help and endeavour to accommodate each other as endeavou^ to

/• -w 'at. A J J* a'l * accommodate

or as may be, without danger of their persons^ one another.

and loss of their means, to maintain and defend
themselves. For seeing the causes of war and
desolation proceed from those passions, by which
we strive to accommodate ourselves, and to leave
others as far as we can behind us, it foUoweth, that
that passion by which we strive mutually to ac-
commodate each other, must be the cause of peace.
And this passion is that charity defined chapter ix.
section VJ. h 2

iirsr>«.

L C

100 DS CORPORE POUTICO.

PART I. 9. And in this precept of namre, is incjaded and
^ comprehended also this. Tkai a mutmjargite and
pardom him thai hath dome him trromgy mpon his
repemiamce amd camtiom for thefmtmre. For par-
dom is peace granted to him. that, having proToked
to war. demandeth it. It is not therefore charity,
but fear, when a man eiveth peace to him that re-
penteth not, nor giveth cantion for maintaining
thereof in the time to come. For he that repenteth
not, remaineth with the affection of an enemy ; as
also doth he that refoseth to give caution, and
consequently, is presumed not to seek after peace,
but advantage. And therefore to forgive him is
not conunanded in this law of nature, nor is charity,
but may sometime be prudence. Otherwise, not
to pardon upon repentance and caution, consider-
ing men cannot abstain from provoking one an-
other, is never to give peace. And that is against
the general definition of the law of nature.
AiHithatn^ 10. And seeing the law of nature commandeth
to iv>.(Hi t the pardon, when there is repentance and caution for
ftitiin, ouij. ^j^^ future, it foUoweth, that the same law ordam-

eth. That no revenge he taken upon the consider-
at ion only of the offence pasty but of the benefit to
come ; that is to say, that all revenge ought to tend
to amendment, either of the person offending, or
of others, by the example of his punishment;
which is sufficiently apparent, in that the law of
nature commandeth pardon, where the future time
is secured. The same is also apparent by this,
that revenge when it considereth the offence past,
is nothing else, but present triumph and glory, and
(lirecteth to no end : and what is directed to no
(Uid, is therefore unprofitable; and consequently

k

D£ CORPORE POLITICO. 101

the triumph of revenge, is vain glory : and what- part i,
soever is vain, is against reason ; and to hurt one , ^; .
another without reason, is contrary to that, which
by supposition is every man's benefit, namely
peace ; and what is contrary to peace, is contrary
to the law of nature.

1 1 • And because all signs which we shew to one That reproach
another of hatred and contempt, provoke in the S^^u^Lst
highest degree to quarrel and battle, (inasmuch ***®^*'''*'°**^
as life itself, with the condition of enduring scorn,
is not esteemed worth the enjoying, much less
peace) it must necessarily be implied as a law of
nature. That no man reproach, revile, deride, or
any otherwise declare his hatred, contempt, or
discs teem of any other. But this law is very little
practised. For what is more ordinary than re-
proaches of those that are rich, towards them that
are not ? or of those that sit in place of judicature,
towards those that are accused at the bar ? although
to grieve them in that manner, be no part of the
punishment for their crime, nor contained in their
office. But use hath prevailed, that what was law-
ful in the lord towards the servant whom he main-
taineth, is also practised as lawful in the more
mighty towards the less ; though they contribute
nothing towards their maintenance.

12. It is also a law of nature. That one man^^^'^^^
allow commerce and traffic indifferently to on^m?rcebofthe
another. For he that alloweth that to one man, ^^ "^ °**'^'
which he denieth to another, declareth his hatred
to him, to whom he denieth. And to declare
hatred is war. And upon this title was grounded
the great war between the Athenians and the
Peloponnesians. For would the Athenians have

C~A?TIS IT,

^ Js. a:w IT xsazT". -^ac i wj.« ibbi mrg m i ^i pdg e ocker for Ui

Ajmttt^ Tuc "aviMf "iiiTg^ viiiA -fximic be diiid ed, be ved

lurftiML. Hi d-nas*^ '27- ]uc. 5.. XiccaL kc pnBOfeBilare» •■d
irsc >nAS)t5i:ix» tL Tiuc sifa sl*bd£ a> arfMintfion ?• Of
xz ijr:Lin>i:r. f. Tlui: ii: car rnsw I» eoansd upoo anj
SEU liTizisc iiss> wIL. ^ H :v u ck^v joDddeolT wbat ii the
\kw af ai=i;w. I ^ T^m :ie iiv c/satczv takrtk place after
wc-xnCT frcoi xaien t: coktw ae aae. 11. The rigfat of
■a:nL^ 3»c< ^: Sf ux£!i avit br csaoom. oor the law of natore
Abc*.>cxDEC br azT ^-^ 2£. W^it the dictates of nature are
ei!jr\i livs. 1 5. Wb&i!C«cT«r » acainrt conscienoe in a man
ikat is his own .^^^dsc. is^ a^uM the law of nature. 14. Of
wutimm ftrm^, w^mm fiup^t ; rirtiie and Tioe. 15. Aptitode
to socktT fuifiUeth the law of nature.

\uwci 1. Thr qnestion. which is the better man^ Lb de-
r!!^ittn .cv terminable only in the estate of ^vemment and
tel^^^i^ policy, thoQ^ it be mistaken for a question of
nature, not only by ignorant men, that think one
man's blood better than another*s by nature, but
also by him, whose opinions are at this day^ and
in these parts, of greater authority than any other

ik

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 103

humsoi writings. For he putteth so much diflFer- part i.
ence between the powers of men by nature, that . ^; .
he doubteth not to set down, as the ground of all
his politics, that some men are by nature worthy
to govern, and others by nature ought to serve.
Which foundation hath not only weakened the
whole frame of his politics, but hath also given
men colour and pretences, whereby to disturb and
hinder the peace of one another. For though there
were such a difference of nature, that master and
servant were not by consent of men, but by in-
herent virtue ; yet who hath that eminency of vir-
tue, above others, and who is so stupid, as not to
govern himself, shall never be agreed upon amongst
men, who do every one naturally think himself, as
able, at the least, to govern another, as another to
govern him. And when there was any contention
between the finer and the courser wits, (as there
hath been often in times of sedition and civil war)
for the most part, these latter carried away the
victory ; and as long as men arrogate to themselves
more honour than they give to otliers, it cannot be
imagined, how they can possibly live in peace:
and consequently we are to suppose, that for peace
sake, nature hath ordained this law. That every
man acknowledge other for his equal. And the
breach of this law, is that we call pride.

2. As it was necessary that a man should not Another, that
retain his right to every thing, so also was it, that ?r«giiJt^*!''
he should retain his right to some things ; to his
own body, for example, the right of defending,
whereof he could not transfer ; to the use of fire,
water, free air, and place to live in, and to all
things necessary for life. Nor doth the law of

104

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART I.
4.

nature command any divesting of other rights,
than of those only which cannot be retained with-
out the loss of peace. Seeing then many rights are
retained, when we enter into peace one with an-
other^ reason and the law of nature dictateth,
Whatsoever right any man requireth to retain^
he allow every other man to retain the same.
For he that doth not so, alloweth not the equality
mentioned in the former section. For there is no
acknowledgment of worth, without attribution of
the equality of benefit and respect. And this
allowance of €Bqualta tequalihus, is the same thing
with the allowing of proportionalia proportional
libus. For when a man alloweth to every man
alike, the allowance he maketh, will be in the
same proportion, in which are the numbers of men
to whom they are made. And this is it men mean
by distributive justice, and is properly termed
equity. The breach of the law is that which the
Greeks call nXcovc^/a, which is commonly rendered
covetousness, but seemeth to be more precisely
expressed by the word encroaching.

3. If there pass no other covenant, the law of
nature is. That such things as cannot be divided,
iiaed ^ coiiiDoo. *^ ^^^^ ^^ common, proportionably to the numbers
of them that are to use the same, or tvithout limi-
tation, when the quantity thereof stffficeth. For
first supposing the thing to be used in common,
not sufficient for them that are to use it without
limitation, if a few shall make more use thereof
than the rest, that equality is not observed, which
is required in the second section. And this is to
be understood, as all the rest of the laws of nature,
without any other covenant antecedent : for a man

Another, Uiat
thoae things
which cannot

^

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 105

may have given away his right of common, and so part i.
the case be altered. ^ ** .

4. In those things which neither can be divided, Another, thtA
nor used in common, the rule of nature must needs bie and iucom.
be one of these, fo/, or alternate use : for besides ^^^ i,*^ lot
these two ways, there can no other equality be
imagined ; and for alternate use, he that beginneth,

hath the advantage ; and to reduce that advantage
to equality, there is no other way but lot, in things,
therefore indivisible and incommunicable, it is the
law of nature. That the use he alternatey or the
advantage given away hy lot ; because there is no
other way of equality. And equality is the law of
nature.

5. There be two sorts of lots; one arbitrary, Natural iot.pri

•' mogemture, an

made by men, and commonly known by the names fiwt possesaou.
of lot, chance, hazard, and the like ; and there is
natural lot, such as is primogeniture, which is no
more but the chance, or lot, of being first bom,
which it seemeth they considered, that call inhe-
ritance by the name of icXijpovo/im, which signifieth
distribution by lot. Secondly, prima occupatio,
first seizing, or finding of a thing, whereof no man
made use before, which for the most part also is
merely chance.

6. Although men agree upon these laws of nature, ^^^^
and endeavour to observe the same ; yet consider-
ing the passions of men, that make it difficult to
understand by what actions, and circumstances of
actions, those laws are broken, there must needs

arise many great controversies about the interpre-
tation thereof, by which the peace must needs be
dissolved, and men return again to their former
estate of hostility. For the taking away of which

i

106 DB CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. controversies, it is necessary that there be some
^ ^' _. common arbitrator and judge, to whose sentence
both the parties in the controversies ought to
stand. And therefore it is a law of nature. That in
every controversy ^ the parties thereto ought mu-
tually to agree upon an arbitrator, wham they
both trust ; and mutually to covenant to stand to
the sentence he shall give therein. For where
every man is his own judge, there properly is no
judge at all ; as where every man carveth out his
own right, it hath the same eflFect, as if there were
no right at all : and where is no judge, there is no
end of controversy: and therefore the right of
hostility remaineth.
or an arutntor. 7* An arbitrator therefore, or he that is judge,
is trusted by the parties to any controversy, to
determine the same by the declaration of his own
judgment therein. Out of which foUoweth first,
that the judge ought not to be concerned in the
controversy he endeth; for in that case he is a
party, and ought by the same reason to be judged
by another. Secondly, that he maketh no cove-
nant with either of the parties, to pronounce sen-
tence for the one, more than for the other. Nor
doth he covenant so much, as that his sentence
shall be just; for that were to make the parties
judges of the sentence, whereby the controversy
would remain still undecided. Nevertheless for
the trust reposed in him, and for the equality which
the law of nature requireth him to consider in the
parties, he violateth that law, if for favour, or
hatred to either party, he give other sentence than
he thinketh right. And thirdly, that no man ought
to make himself judge in any controversy between
others, unless they consent and agree thereto.

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 107

8. It is also the law of nature. That no man parti.

obtrude or press his advice or counsel to any man, , ,^ ,

that declareth himself unwilling to hear the same, ^riuxno man

—. , 11 1 -1 , press Uis counsel

For seeing a man taketh counsel concerning what apon any man
is good or hurt of himself only, and not of his **'*^* ^ "^
counsellor, and that counsel is a voluntary action,
and therefore tendeth also to the good of the coun-
sellor, there may be often just cause to suspect the
counsellor : and though there be none, yet seeing
counsel unwillin^y heard, is a needless offence to
him that is not wiUing to hear it, and offences tend
all to the breach of peace, it is therefore against
the law of nature to obtrude it.

9. A man that shall see these laws of nature set How to know
down and inferred with so many words, and southeiawof
much ado, may think there is yet much more difli- '^'
culty and subtlety required to acknowledge and do
according to the said laws in every sudden occasion,

when a man hath but a little time to consider.
And while we consider man in most passions, as of
anger, ambition, covetousness, vain glory, and the
like, that tend to the excluding of natural equality,
it is true. But without these passions, there is an
easy rule to know upon a sudden, whether the
action I be to do, be against the law of nature, or
not. And it is but this : That a man imagine him-
self in the place of the party with whom he hath
to do, and reciprocally him in his. Which is no
more but a changing, as it were, of the scales.
For every man's passion weigheth heavy in his own
scale, but not in the scale of his neighbour. And
this rule is very well known and expressed in this
old dictate. Quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri nefeceris.
10. These laws of nature, the sum whereof con<-

108 DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART I. sisteth in forbidding ns to be onr own judges, and
. ^; _ our oi\Ti carvers, and in commanding us to accom-
T»rti tim modate one another, in case they should be ob-
uiMTf ii piiu»r served by some, and not by others, would make
u!Z "^^oH^^'L ^^^ observers but a prey to them that should neglect
oiMmreUKTMimr. thcm, Icaviug the good both without defence against
the wicked, and dso with a charge to assist them :
which is against the scope of the said laws, that
are made only for the protection and defence of
them that keep them. Reason therefore, and the
law of nature over and above all these particular
laws, doth dictate this law in general. That thae
particular laws be so Jar ohservedj as they subject
us not to any incommodity, that in our own Judg-
ments may arise, by the neglect thereof in those
towards whom we observe them ; and consequently
requireth no more but the desire and constant in-
tention to endeavour and be ready to observe them,
unless there be cause to the contrary in other men's
refusal to observe them towards us. The force
therefore of the law of nature, is not in foro ex*
ternOy till there be security for men to obey it, but
is always in foro interno, wherein the action of
obedience being unsafe, the will and readiness to
perform, is taken for the performance.
ThP riKht of 11, Amongst the laws of nature, customs and

iintiire iiot to ,,^ ii-r^i

imtiikciiaway prescriptious are not numbered. For whatsoever

by ciiNtoin, nor j.» • • *. ^v i. "^ !_ 'a. ^ J

th.. law of no- action is against reason, though it be reiterated
bHii'^^'Iir''^ never so often, or that there be never so many pre-
cedents thereof, is still against reason, and therefore
not a law of nature, but contrary to it. But con-
sent and covenant may so alter the cases, which in
the law of nature may be put, by changing the cir-
cumstances, that that which was reason before, may

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 109

afterwards be against it ; and yet is reason still the part i.
law. For though every man be bound to allow ^^' _^
equality to another, yet if that other shall see cause
to renounce the same, and make himself inferior,
then, if from thenceforth he consider him as infe-
rior, he breaketh not thereby that law of nature
that commandeth to allow equality. In sum, a
man's own consent may abridge him of the liberty
which the law of nature leaveth him, but custom
not ; nor can eitiier of them abrogate either these,
or or any other law of nature.

12- And forasmuch as law, to speak properly, is ^iiy thedic

dj . I J • ^ A. aA J tales of nature

, and these dictates, as they proceed ar« caiied iaw».

from nature, are not commands, they are not there-
fore called laws, in respect of nature, but in respect
of the author of nature, God Almighty.

13. And seeing the laws of nature concern the whateoever
conscience, not he only breaketh them that doth ^i^!^^^,
any action contrary, but also he whose action is j^^'J^^J^J
conformable to them, in case he think it contrary, theiawofnature.
For though the action chance to be right, yet in

his judgment he despiseth the law.

14. Everyman by natural passion, calleth that or ma/umpo'mp.
good which pleaseth him for the present, or so far ^rtu^i^i^cc.
forth as he can foresee ; and in like manner, that

which displeaseth him, evil. And therefore he that
foreseeth the whole way to his preservation, which
is the end that every one by nature aimeth at, must
also call it good, and the contrary evil. And this
is that good and evil, which not every man in
passion calleth so, but all men by reason. And
therefore the fulfilling of all these laws is good
in reason, and the breaking of them evil. And
so also the habit, or disposition, or intention to

no

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART I.
4.

fulfil them good; and the neglect of them evil.
_ And from hence cometh that distinction of nudmm
panue, and malum culp<B; for malum posnm is
any pain or molestation of the mind whatsoever;
but malum culpie is that action which is contrary
to reason and the law of nature : as also the habit
of doing according to these and other laws of na-
ture^ that tend to our preservation, is that we call
virtue ; and the habit of doing the contrary, vice.
As for example, justice is that habit by which we
stand to covenants, injustice the contrary vice;
equity that habit by which we allow equality of
nature, arrogancy the contrary vice ; gratitude the
habit whereby we requite the benefit and trust of
others, ingratitude the contrary vice ; temperance
the habit by which we abstain from all things that
tend to our destruction, intemperance the contrary
vice ; prudence^ the same vnth virtue in general.
As for the common opinion, that virtue consisteth in
mediocrity, and vice in extremes, I see no ground for
it, nor can find any such mediocrity. Courage may
be virtue, when the daring is extreme, if the cause
be good, and extreme fear no vice when the danger
is extreme. To give a man more than his due, is
no injustice, though it be to give him less : and in
gifts it is not the sum that maketh liberality, but
the reason. And so in all other virtues and vices.
I know that this doctrine of mediocrity is Aristotle's,
but his opinions concerning virtue and vice, are no
other than those, which were received then, and are
still by the generality of men unstudied, and there-
fore not very likely to be accurate.
Aptitude to 15. The sum of virtue is to be sociable with them

tekvociiatiift. that will be sociable, and formidable to them that

DB CORPORB POLITICO. 1 1 1

will not. And the same is the sum of the law of part i.
nature : for in being sociable, the law of nature ^ ^; .
taketh place by way of peace and society; and
to be formidable, is the law of nature in war, where
to be feared is a protection a man hath from his
own power : and as the former consisteth m actions
of equity and justice, the latter consisteth in actions
of honour. And equity, justice, and honour, con-
tain all virtues whatsoever.

CHAPTER V.

A Confirmation out of Holj Scripture of the principal points
mentioned in the two last Chapters concerning the Law of
Nature.

1 . The laws mentioned in the former chapters, as confinna-
they are called the laws of nature, for that they s^toJ, &c
are the dictates of natural reason, and also moral
laws, because they concern the manners and con-
versation of men, one towards another ; so are they
also divine laws in respect of the author thereof,
God Almighty ; and ought therefore to agree, or at
least, not to be repugnant to the word of God
revealed in Holy Scripture. In this chapter there-
fore, I shall produce such places of Scripture, as
i^)pear to be most consonant to the said laws.

2. And first, the word of God seemeth to place
the divine law in reason, by all such texts as ascribe
the same to the heart and understanding ; as Psalm
xl. 8 : Thy law is in my heart. Heb. viii. 10 :
After those days, saith the Lord, I will put my
laws in their mind: and Heb. x. 16, the same.
Psalm xxxviL 31, speaking of the righteous man.

112 DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART u he saith, The law of God is in his heart, P&alm
. f' _- xix. 7, 8 : The law of God is perfect^ converting
roDfimu. the soul. It giveth wisdom to the simple, and
scri^. jk. light unto the eyes. Jer. xxxi. 33 : / wiU put
my law in their iuward parts^ and write it in
their hearts. And (John i.) the lawgiver himself,
God Almighty, is called by the name of Aoyo^f
which is also called (verse 4) The light of men;
and (verse 9) The light which lighteth every man,
which cometh into the world. All which are de-
scriptions of natural reason.

3. And that the law divine, for so much as is
moral, are those precepts which tend to peace,
seemeth to be much confirmed by such places of
Scripture as these: Rom. iii. 17> righteousness
which is the fulfilling of the law, is called The
way of peace. And P^m Ixxxv. 10 : Righteous-
ness and peace shall kiss each other. And Matth.
V. 9 : Blessed are the peace-^makers. And Heb.
vii. 2, Melchisedec king of Salem is interpreted
king of righteousness, and king of peace. And
(verse 21) our Saviour Christ is said to be a priest
for ever after the order of Melchisedec : out of
which may be inferred, that the doctrine of our
Saviour Christ annexeth the fulfilling of the law to
peace.

4. That the law of nature is unalterable, is in-
timated by this, that the priesthood of Melchisedec
is everlasting ; and by the words of our Saviour,
(Matth. V. 18) : Heaven and earth shall pass away,
hut one jot or tittle of the law shall not pass till
all things he fulfilled.

5. That men ought to stand to their covenants,
is taught Psalm xv, where the question being

OB CORPORE POLITICO. 113

asked (verse 1), Lord who shall dwell in thy taber-^ part i.
nucle, &e. It is answered (verse 4), He that . ^; .
sweareth to his own hindrance, and yet changeth confima-
not. And that men ought to be gratified, where sSptore, %k.
no covenant passeth^ Deut. xxv. 4 : Thou shalt
not muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn,
which St. Paul (1 Cor. ix. 9) interpreteth not of
oxen but of men.

6. That men content themselves with equality,
as it is the foundation of natural law^ so also is it
of the second table, of the divine law, Matth. xxii.
39, 40 : Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
On these two laws depend the whole law and the
prophets; which is not so to be understood, as
that a man should study so much his neighbour's
profit as his own^ or that he should divide his
goods amongst his neighbours ; but that he should
esteem his neighbour worthy all rights and privi-
ties that himself enjoyeth; and attribute unto
him, whatsoever he looketh should be attributed
imto himself : which is no more^ but that he should
be humble, meek, and content with equality.

7. And that in distributing of right amongst
equals, that distribution is to be made according to
the proportions of the numbers, which is the giving
of iequalia aqualibuSy et proportionalia propor-
tionalibus ; we have Numb. xxvi. 63, 64, the
commandment of God to Moses : Thou shalt divide
the land according to the number of names ; to
many thou shalt give more, to few tliou shalt give
less, to every one according to his number. That
decision by lot is a means of peace, Prov. xviii. 18 :
The lot causeth contention to cease, and maketh
partition among the mighty.

VOL. IV. 1

%^

1 14 DB CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. 8. That the accommodation and foi^veness of
^ . one another, which have before been pnt for laws

coQfinM. of nature, are also law divine, there is no qnestion.

8cripcBn,4c For they are the essence of charity, which is the
scope of the whole law. That we onght not to
reproach, or reprehend one another, is the doctrine
of our Saviour, Matth. viL 1 : Judge not, that ye
he not judged : (verse 3) : Why eeeet thou the
mote that ie in thy brother' e eye, and eeeet not the
beam that ie in thine own eye f Also the law that
forbiddeth us to press our counsel upon others fur-
ther than they admit, is a divine law. For after
our charity and desire to rectify one another is
rejected, to press it further, is to reprehend him,
and condemn him, which is forbidden in the text
last recited ; as also Rom. xiv. 12, 13 : Every one ^
us shall give account of himself to God. Let us
not therefore judge one another any more, hut use
your judgment rather in this, that no man put on
occasion to fall, or a stumbling bloch before his
brother.

9. Further, the rule of men concerning the law
of nature. Quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri nefecerisj
is confirmed by the like, Matth. vii. 12 : What-
soever therefore you would have men do unto you,
that do you unto them : for this is the law and
the prophets. And Rom. ii. 1 : In that thou

judgest another, thou condemnest thyself, &c.

10. It is also manifest by the Scriptures, that
these laws concern only the tribunal of our con-
science; and that the actions contrary to them,
shall be no further punished by God Almighty,
than as they proceed from negligence, or contempt.
And first, that these laws are made to the con-

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 115

science, appeareth, Matth. v. 20 : For I say unto part i.
youy except your righteousness exceed the rights — \' -^
eousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall confinna.

, , _ tion oat of

not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Now the scnptara, &c.
Pharisees were the most exact amongst the Jews
in the external performance ; they therefore must
want the sincerity of conscience ; else could not
our Saviour have required a greater righteousness
than theirs. For the same reason our Saviour
Christ saith (Luke, xviii. 14) : The publican
departed from the temple justified , rather than
the Pharisee. And Christ saith, (Matth. xi. 30) :
My yoke is easy, and my burthen light ; which
proceedeth from this, that Christ required no
more than our best endeavour. And Rom. xiv.
23 : He that doubteth, is condemned, if he eat.
And in innumerable places both in the Old and
New Testament, God Almighty declareth, that
he taketh the will for the deed, both in good
and evil actions. By all which it plainly appears,
that the divine law is dictated to the conscience.
On the other side it is no less plain, that how
many and heinous actions soever a man commit
through infirmity, he shall nevertheless, whensoever
he shall condemn the same in his own conscience,
be freed from the punishments that to such actions
otherwise belong. For, At what time soever a
sinner doth repent him of his sins from the bottom
of his hearty I will put all his iniquities out of my
remembrajice, saith the Lord.

11. Concerning revenge, which by the law of
nature ought not to aim, as I have said chapter iii.
section 10, at present delight, but future profit,
there is some difficulty made, as if the same ac-

116 DB CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. corded not with the law divine^ by such as object
^ f • . the continuaiice of punishment after the day of
coofinM. judgment, when there shall be no place, neither
scri^, 4c for amendment, nor for example. This objection
had been of some force, if such punishment had
been ordained after all sins were past ; but consi-
dering the punishment was instituted before sm, it
serveth to the benefit of mankind, because it keepeth
men in peaceable and virtuous conversation by the
terror. And therefore such revenge was directed
to the future only.

12. Finally, there is no law of natural reason,
that can be against the law divine : for God Al-
mighty hath given reason to a man to be a light
unto him. And I hope it is no impiety to think,
that God Almighty will require a strict account
thereof, at the day of judgment, as of the instruc-
tions which we were to follow in our peregrination
here, notwithstanding the opposition and afl&onts
of supematuralists now a-days, to rational and
moral conversation.

k

OB CORPORE POLITICO. 1 1?

CHAPTER VI.

1. That men, notwithstanding these laws, are still in the state of
war, till they have security one against another. 2. The law
of nature in war, is nothing but honour. 3. No security with-
out the concord of many. 4. That concord of many cannot
be maintained without power to keep them all in awe. 5. The
cause why concord remaineth in a multitude of some irrational
creatures, and not of men. 6. That union is necessary for
the maintaining of concord. 7* How union is made. 8. Body
politic defined. 9. Corporation defined. 10. Sovereign and
subject defined. 1 1 . Two sorts of bodies politic, patrimonial
and commonwealth.

1. In chapter xii. section J 6, of the Treatise of parti.

Human Nature, it hath been shewed, that the opi- . ^ r

nions men have of the rewards and punishments '^ "«°! ^"^

I.- L ^ r ^^ xl. • x- ^i. withstanding

which are to follow then* actions, are the causes these kws. are
that make and govern the will to those actions, of w».tm they
In this estate of man therefore, wherein all men are ^IJi^J^'^ShS
equal, and every man allowed to be his own judge,
the fears they have one of another are equal, and
every man's hopes consist in his own sleight and
strength : and consequently when any man by his
natural passion, is provoked to break these laws of
nature, there is no security in any other man of his
own defence but anticipation. And for this cause,
every man's right, howsoever he be inclined to
peace, of doing whatsoever seemeth good in his
own eyes, remaineth with him still, as the neces-
sary means of his preservation. And therefore till
there be security amongst men for the keeping of
the law of nature one towards another, men are
still in the estate of war, and nothing is unlawful

118 DS CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. to any man that tendeth to his own safety or com-
. ^' . modity : and this safety and commodity consisteth
in the mutual aid and help of one another, whereby
also foUoweth the mutual fear of one another.
The law of 2. It is a proverbial saying, inter arma silent
is nothing bat /^^e^. There is a little therefore to be said con-
cerning the laws that men are to observe one to-
wards another in time of war, wherein every man's
being and well-being is the rule of his actions. Yet
thus much the law of nature commandeth in war,
that men satiate not the cruelty of their present
passions, whereby in their own conscience they
foresee no benefit to come. For that betrayeth not
a necessity, but a disposition of the mind to war,
which is against the law of nature. And in old
time we read, that rapine was a trade of life,
wherein nevertheless many of them that used it,
did not only spare the lives of those they invaded,
but left them also such things, as were necessary
to preserve that life which they had given them ;
as namely their oxen and instruments for tillage,
though they carried away all their other cattle and
substance. And as the rapine itself was warranted
in the law of nature, by the want of security other-
wise to maintain themselves, so the exercise of
cruelty was forbidden by the same law of nature,
unless fear suggested anything to the contrary.
For nothing but fear can justify the taking away
of another's life. And because fear can hardly be
made manifest, but by some action dishonourable,
that bewrayeth the conscience of one's own weak-
ness, all men, in whom the passion of courage or
magnanimity hath been predominant, have ab-

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 119

stained from cruelty ; insomuch, that though there part i.
be in war no law, the breach whereof is injury, . ^' ^
yet there are in war those laws, the breach whereof
is dishonour. In one word, therefore, the only law
of actions in war, is honour ; and the right of war,
providence.

3. And seeing natural aid is necessary for de- no security

^ . ^ ^ • n without the

fence, as mutual fear is necessary for peace, we concord of man^
are to consider how great aids are required for
such defence, and for the causing of such mutual
fear, as men may not easily adventure on one an-
other. And first, it is evident, that the mutual aid
of two or three men is of very little security. For
the odds on the other side, of a man or two, giveth
sufficient encouragement to an assault. And there-
fore before men have sufficient security in the help
of one another, their number must be so great,
that the odds of a few which the enemy may have,
be no certain and sensible advantage.

4. And supposing how great a number soever of That concord c
men assembled together for their mutual defence, maintidnedwiti
yet shall not the eflFect follow, unless they all direct X^^^^t^
their actions to one and the same end ; which di-
rection to one and the same end is that which,

chap. XII. sect. 7 9 is called consent. This consent,
or concord, amongst so many men, though it may
be made by the fear of a present invader, or by
the hope of a present conquest, or booty, and en-
dure as long as that action endureth, nevertheless,
by the diversity of judgments and passions in so
many men contending naturally for honour and
advantage one above another, it is impossible, not
only that their consent to aid each other against
an enemy, but also that the peace should last be-

120 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I. tween themselves, without some mutual and com-

. ^' . mon fear to rule them.
The cause 5. But coutraTy hereunto may be objected, the

Ut^oThi experience we have of certain living creatures
of^e\^ irrational, that nevertheless continually live in
tionai creaturei, such ffood ordcr aud ffovemment for their commoii

and not of men. ,

benefit, and are so free from sedition and war
amongst themselves, that for peace, profit^ and
defence, nothing more can be imaginable. And
the experience we have in this, is in that little
creature the bee, which is therefore reckoned
amongst animalia politica. Why therefore may
not men, that foresee the benefit of concord, con-
tinually maintain the same without compulsion, as
well as they ? To which I answer, that amongst
other living creatures, there is no question of pre-
cedence in their own species, nor strife about
honour, or acknowledgment of one another's wis-
dom, as there is amongst men, from whence arise
envy and hatred of one towards another, and from
thence sedition and war. Secondly, those living
creatures aim every one at peace and food common
to them all ; men aim at dominion, superiority, and
private wealth, which are distinct in every man,
and breed contention. Thirdly, those living crea-
tures that are without reason, have not learning
enough to espy, or to think they espy, any defect
in the government ; and therefore are contented
therewith. But in a multitude of men, there are
always some that think themselves wiser than the
rest, and strive to alter what they think amiss,
and divers of them strive to alter divers ways, and
that causeth war. Fourthly, they want speech,

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 121

and are therefore unable to instigate one another part i.
to faction, which men want not. Fifthly, they have . ^; ^
no conception of right and wrong, but only of
pleasure and pdn, and therefore also no censure of
one another, nor of their commander, as long as
they are themselves at ease; whereas men that
make themselves judges of right and wrong, are
then least at quiet, when they are most at ease.
Lastly, natural concord, such as is amongst those
creatures, is the work of God by the way of nature ;
but concord amongst men is artificial, and by way
of covenant. And therefore no wonder, if such
irrational creatures as govern themselves in multi-
tude, do it much more firmly than mankind, that
do it by arbitrary institution.

6. It remaineth therefore still, that consent, by That union is
which I understand the concurrence of many men's ^^IStaiif.
wills to one action, is not sufl&cient security for"***'*^*'*^
their common peace, without the erection of some
common power, by the fear whereof they may be
compelled both to keep the peace amongst them-
selves, and to join their strengths together, against

a common enemy. And that this may be done,
there b no way imaginable, but only union, which
is defined, chapter xii. section 8, to be the involv-
ing, or including the wills of many in the will of
one man, or in the will of the greatest part of any
one number of men, that is to say, in the will of
one man, or of one counciL For a council is
nothing else but an assembly of men deliberating
concerning something common to them all.

7. The making of union consisteth in this, that ^^^ ^^^^
every man by covenant oblige himself to some one

122

DB CORPORB POLITICO.

PART I.

6.

Body politic
(lefioed.

Corporation
defined.

and the same man, or to some one and the same
council, by them all named and determmed, to do
those actions, which the said man or council shall
command them to do, and to do no action, which
he or they shall forbid, or command them not to
do. And further, in case it be a council, whose
commands they covenant to obey, that then also
they covenant, that every man shall hold that for
the command of the whole council, which is the
command of the greater part of those men, whereof
such council consisteth. And though the will of
man being not voluntary, but the beginning of
voluntary actions, is not subject to deliberation and
covenant ; yet when a man covenanteth to subject
his will to the command of another, he obligeth
himself to this, that he resign his strength and
means to him, whom he covenanteth to obey. And
hereby he that is to command, may by the use of
all their means and strength, be able by the terror
thereof, to frame the will of them all to unity and
concord, amongst themselves.

8. This union so made, is that which men call
now a-days, a body politicy or civil society ; and
the Greeks call it ttoXcc, that is to say, a city, which
may be defined to be a multitude of men, united
as one person, by a common power, for their com-
mon peace, defence, and benefit.

9. And as this union into a city or body politic,
is instituted with common power over all the par-
ticular persons, or members thereof, to the com-
mon good of them all; so also may there be
amongst a multitude of those members instituted,
a subordinate union of certain men, for certiun

DB CORPORB POLITICO. 123

common actions to be done by those men for some p^^T |.
common benefit of theirs, or of the whole city ; as , ^'
for subordinate government, for connsel, for trade,
and the like. And these subordinate bodies poli-
tic are usually called corporations; and their
power such over the particulars of their own
society, as the whole city, whereof they are mem-
bers, have allowed them.

10. In all cities, or bodies politic not subordi- *>vf«ij^ «»d

' x- subject defined

nate, but mdependent, that one man, or one coun-
cil, to whom the particular members have given
that common power, is called their sovereign^ and
his power, the sovereign power ; which consisteth
in the power and the strength, that every of the
members have transferrred to him from themselves
by covenant. And because it is impossible for any
man really to transfer his own strength to another,
or for that other to receive it ; it is to be under-
stood, that to transfer a man's power and strength,
is no more but to lay by, or relinquish his own
right of resisting him to whom he so transferreth
it. And every member of the body politic, is called
a subject^ to wit, to the sovereign.

1 1 . The cause in general, which moveth a man 3^? «*'*? °^

, bodies pontic,

to become subject to another, is (as I have said patrimonial «

--..^ /» « • •«• commonweelt]

already) the fear of not otherwise preserving him-
self. And a man may subject himself to him that
invadeth, or may invade him, for fear of him ; or
men may join amongst themselves, to subject them-
selves to such as they shall agree upon for fear of
others. And when many men subject themselves
the former way, there ariseth thence a body politic,
as it were naturally. From whence proceedeth

]24 DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART u dominion, paternal and despotic. And when they

. ^- _^ subject themselves the other way, by mutual agree-

rwo sorts of ment amongst many, the body politic they make,

bodiespouticAc. jg £^j, jj^^ x^io^i part, called a commonwealth^ in

distinction from the former, though the name be
the general name for them both. And I shall
speak in the first place of commonwealths, and
afterwards of bodies politic, patrimonial, and des-
potical.

DB CORPORB POLITICO. 125

THE SECOND PART.

CHAPTER I.

1. Introduction. 2. A multitude before their union, &c. 3. Ex-
press consent of every particular, &c. 4. Democratical, aris-
tocratical, and monarchical union may be instituted for ever,
or, &c. 5. Without security no private right relinquished.
6. Covenants of government, without power of coercion, are no
security. 7. Power coercive, &c. 8. The sword of war, &c.
9. Decbion in all debates, &c. annexed to the sword. 10.
Laws civil, &c 11. Appointment of magistrates, &c 12.
Sovereign power includeth impunity. 13. A supposed com-
monwealth, where laws are made first, and the commonwealth
after. 14. The same refelled. 15. Mixed forms of govern-
ment supposed in sovereignty. 16. That refelled. 17. Mixed
government, &c. 18. Reason and experience to prove abso-
lute sovereignty somewhere in all commonwealths. 19. Some
principal, &c marks of sovereignty.

1 . That Treatise of Human Nature^ which was part ii.
formerly printed, hath been wholly spent in the ^ \ .
consideration of the natural power, and the natural ^*«»d«*«*«>°-
estate of man, namely, of his cognition and passions
in the first eleven chapters, and how from thence
proceed his actions ; in the twelfth, how men know
one another's minds: in the last, in what estate
men's passions set them. In the first, second,
third, fourth, and fifth chapters of the former Part
of this Treatise is showed, what estate they are
directed unto by the dictates of reason, that is to say,
what be the principal articles of the law of nature.

126 DB CORPORS POUTICO.

PART II. And lastly^ bow a multitude of persons natural, are
^ \ ^ united by covenants into one person civil, or body
politic. In this part therefore shall be considered,
the nature of a body politic, and the laws thereof,
otherwise caUed civil laws. And whereas it hath
been said in the last chapter, and last section of the
former part, that there be two ways of erecting a
body politic ; one by arbitrary institution of many
men assembled tc^ther, which is like a creation out
of nothing by human wit ; the other by compulsion,
which is as it were a eeneration thereof out of
natural force ; I shall first speak of such erection
of a body politic, as proceedeth firom the assembly
and consent of a multitude.

2. Having in this place to consider, a multitude
of men about to unite themselves into a body poli-
tic, for their security, both against one another,
and agdnst common enemies, and that by cove-
nants ; the knowledge of what covenants they must
needs make, dependeth on the knowledge of the
persons, and the knowledge of their end. Rrst,
for their persons they are many, and (as yet) not
one ; nor can any action done in a multitude of
people met together, be attributed to the multi-
tude, or truly called the action of the multitude,
unless every man's hand, and every man's will,
(not so much as one excepted) have concurred
thereto. For multitude, though in their persons
they run together, yet they concur not alwap in
their designs. For even at that time when men
are in tumult, though they agree a number of them
to one mischief, and a number of them to ano-
ther ; yet, in the whole, they are amongst them-
aehres in the state of hostility, and not of peace ;

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 127

like the seditious Jews besieged in Jerusalem^ that part ii.
eonld join against their enemies, and fight amongst . \ .
themselves. Whensoever therefore any man saith^
that a number of men hath done any act^ it is to
be understood, that every particular man in that
number hath consented thereimto, and not the
greatest part only. Secondly, though thus assem-
bled with intention to unite themselves, they are
yet in that estate in which every man hath right
to everything, and consequently, as hath been said,
chapter i, section 10, in an estate of enjoying no-
thing. And therefore meum and tuum hath no
place amongst them.

3. The first thins" therefore they are to do, isExprcMcon-

" 1-1 sent of every

expressly every man to consent to something, by particular, &c.
which they may come near to their ends, which can
be nothing else imaginable, but this, that they allow
the wills of the major part of their whole number,
or the wills of the major part of some certain num-
ber of men by them determined and named; or
lastly, the will of some one man, to involve and be
taken for the wills of every man. And this done,
they are united, and a body politic. And if the
major part of their whole number be supposed to
involve the wills of all the particulars, then are
they said to be a democracy^ that is to say, a
government wherein the whole number, or so many
of them as please, being assembled together, are
the sovereign, and every particular man a subject.
If the major part of a certain number of men
named or distinguished from the rest, be supposed
to involve the wills of every one of the particulars,
then are they said to be an oligarchy ^ or aristo^
cracy, which two words signify the same thing.

128

DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II.
1.

together with the divers passions of those that use

them. For when the men that be in that office

please, they are called an aristocracy, or otherwise
an oligarchy, wherein those, the major part of
which declare the wills of the whole multitude
being assembled, are the sovereign, and every man
severally a subject. Lastly, if their consent be
such, that the will of one man, whom they name,
shall stand for the wills of them all, then is their
government or union called a monarchy , and that
one man a sovereign, and every of the rest a subject
D«no«pi<>aJ» 4. And those several sorts of unions^ govem-
uidmoiuircfaicaiments, aud subjections of man's will^ may be
JJJ^^^*^'^; understood to be made, either absolutely, that is
to say, for all future time, or for a time limited
only. But forasmuch as we speak here of a body
politic, instituted for the perpetual benefit and
defence of them that make it ; which therefore
men desire should last for ever, I will omit to speak
of those that be temporary, and consider of those
that be for ever.

5. The end for which one man giveth up, and
relinquisheth to another, or others, the right of
protecting and defending himself by his own power,
is the security which he expecteth thereby, of
protection and defence from those to whom he
doth so relinquish it ; and a man may then account
himself in the estate of security, when he can fore-
see no violence to be done unto him, from which
the doer may not be deterred by the power of that
sovereign, to whom they have every one subjected
themselves : and without that security, there is no
reason for a man to deprive himself of his own ad-
vantages, and make himself a prey to others. And

Without
■ectirity no
private right
ittUnquiiihod.

DK CORPORE POLITICO. 129

therefore when there is not such a sovereign power part ii.
erected, as may afford this security, it is to be un- . \' .
derstood, that every man's right of doing whatso-
ever seemeth good in his own eyes, remaineth still
with him; and contrariwise, where any subject
hath right by his own judgment and discretion, to
make use of his force, it is to be understood, that
every man hath the like, and consequently, that
there is no commonwealth at all established. How
far therefore in the making of a commonwealth,
man subjecteth his will to the power of others,
must appear from the end, namely, security. For
whatsoever is necessary to be by covenant trans-
ferred, for the attaining thereof, so much is trans-
ferred, or else every man is in his natural liberty
to secure himself.

6. Covenants agreed upon by every man assem- covpnante of
bled for the making of a commonwealth, and put SdS^^ler
in writing without erecting of a power of coercion, ^^^o'^'ntj-
are no reasonable security for any of them that so
covenant, nor are to be called laws, and leave men
still in the estate of nature and hostility. For see-
ing the wills of most men are governed only by
fear, and where there is no power of coercion,
there is no fear, the wills of most men will follow
their passions of eovetousness, lust, anger, and the
like, to the breaking of those covenants, whereby
the rest, also, who otherwise would keep them, are
set at liberty, and have no law, but from themselves.

7- This power of coercion, as hath been said, Power
chap. II. sect. 3, of the former part, consisteth in *''*'"^*''
the transferring of every man's right of resistance
against him, to whom he hath transferred the
power of coercion. It foUoweth therefore, that no

VOL. IV. K

130

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART 11.
1.

Tlie«word
of war, Ac€.

man in any commonwealth whatsoever, hatfa right
to resist him, or them, to whom they have trans-
ferred this power coercive, or (as men nse to call
it) the sword of justice, supposing the not-re»8-
tance possible. For, Part I. chapter ii. sect. 18,
covenants bind but to the utmost of our endeavour.
8. And forasmuch as they who are amongst
themselves in security, by the means of this sword
of justice, that keeps them all in awe, are neverthe-
less in danger of enemies from without, if there
be not some means found, to unite their strengths
and natural forces, in the resistance of such ene-
mies, their peace amongst themselves is but in
vain. And therefore it is to be understood as a
covenant of every member to contribute their se-
veral forces for the defence of the whole, whereby
to make one power as sufficient, as is possible for
their defence. Now seeing that every man hath
already transferred the use of his strength to him,
or them, that have the sword of justice, it followeth,
that the power of defence, that is to say, the sword
of war, be in the same hands wherein is the sword
of justice ; and consequently those two swords are
but one, and that inseparably and essentially an-
nexed to the sovereign power.
DcciMumtn 9. Morcovcr, seeing to have the right of the
Ace' aTiiifxi a sword, is nothing else but to have the use thereof
u> the nwi r«L ^jgpgjj^jjjg Q^jy qjj ^\^q judgmcut aud discretion of

him or them that have it, it followeth, that the
power of indenture in all controversies, wherem
the sword of justice is to be used ; and in all deli-
berations concerning war, wherein the use of that
sword is required, the right of resolving and de-
termining what is to be done, belong to the same
sovereign.

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 131

10. Further, considering it is no less, but much part ir.
more necessary to prevent violence and rapine, . \ .
than to punish the same when it is committed, and Law» dra, ac
all violence proceedeth from controversies that

arise between men concerning meum and tuunij
right and wrong, good and bad, and the like,
which men use every one to measure by their own
judgments, it belongeth also to the judgment of
the same sovereign power, to set forth and make
known the common measure by which every man
is to know what is his, and what another's ; what
is good, and what bad, and what he ought to do,
and what not, and to command the same to be
observed. And these measures of the actions of
the subjects are those, which men call laws politic,
or civil : the making whereof, must of right belong
to him that hath the power of the sword, by which
men are compelled to observe them ; for otherwise
they should be made in vain.

11. Furthermore, seeing it is impossible that Appointment o
any one man that hath such sovereign power, can ""*"

be able, in person, to hear and determine all con-
troversies, to be present at all deliberations con-
cerning common good, and to execute and perform
all those common actions that belong thereunto,
whereby there will be necessity of magistrates and
ministers of public affairs ;' it is consequent, that
the appointment, nomination, and limitation of
the same be understood, as an inseparable part of
the same sovereignty, to which the sum of all judi-
cature, and execution, hath been already annexed.

12. And forasmuch, as the right to use the forces soverdgn

/• ^'"i I •^/•ji? power inclu-

of every particular member, is transferred from Setii impunity
themselves, to their sovereign, a man will easily

K 2

132 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART IK fell upon this conclusion of himself^ that to sove-
^ \' reign power, whatsoever it doth, there belongeth
impunity,
A8upp«ied 13. The sum of these rights of sovereignty;

wealth where uamcly, thc absolutc use of the sword in peace and
fir!rt!^theconi. War, thc making and abrogating of laws, supreme
''^'^'^^^^'judicaturey and decision, in all debates judicial and
deliberative, the nomination of all magistrates and
ministers, with other rights contained in the same,
make the sovereign power no less absolute in the
commonwealth, than before commonwealth every
man was absolute in himself, to do, or not to do,
what he thought good ; which men, that have not
had the experience of that miserable estate, to
which men are reduced by long war, think so hard
a condition, that they cannot easily acknowledge
such covenants, and subjection on their parts, as
are here set down, to have been ever necessary to
their peace. And therefore some have imagined,
that a commonwealth may be constituted in such
manner, as the sovereign power may be so limited,
and moderated, as they shall think fit themselves.
For example : they suppose a multitude of men to
have agreed upon certain articles, which they
presently call laws, declaring how they will be
governed, and that done, to agree further upon
some man, or number of men, to see the same
articles performed, and put in execution ; and to
enable him, or them, thereunto, they allot imto
them a provision limited, as of certain lands, taxes,
penalties, and the like, than which, if mispent,
they shall have no more, without a new consent of
the same men that allowed the former. And thus
they think they have made a commonwealth, in

L

DE CORPORB POLITICO.

133

i?vhich it is unlawful for any private man to make
use of his own sword for his security; wherein
they deceive themselves.

14. For first, if to the revenue, it did necessarily
follow, that there might be forces raised and pro-
cured at the will of him that hatli such revenue ;
yet since the revenue is limited, so must also the
forces : but limited forces against the power of an
enemy, which we cannot limit, are unsufficient.
Whensoever therefore there happeneth an invasion
greater than those forces are able to resist, and
there be no other right to levy more, then is every
man, by necessity of nature, allowed to make the
best provision he can for himself ; and thus is the
private sword, and the estate of war again reduced.
But seeing revenue, without the right of command-
ing men, is of no use, neither in peace, nor war, it
is necessary to be supposed, that he that hath the
administration of those articles, which are in the
former section supposed, must have also right to
make use of the strengths of particular men. And
what reason soever giveth him that right over any
one, giveth him the same over all, And then is
his right absolute. For he that hath right to all
their forces, hath right to dispose of the same.
Again, supposing those limited forces and revenue,
either by the necessary, or negligent use of them,
to fail, and that for a supply, the same multitude
be again to be assembled, who shall have power to
assemble them, that is to compel them to come
together ? If he that demandeth the supply hath
that right, to wit, the right to compel them all,
then is his sovereignty absolute; if not, then is
every particular man at liberty to come or not ; to

PART II.

1.

The same
refelled.

134

DB CORPORE POLITICO,

PART II.
1.

Mixed
fbrniA of
goTeminent
supposed in
•overeignty.

That refelled.

frame a new commonwealth, or not^ and so the
right of the private sword retnmeth. But suppose
them willingly, and of their own accord, assem-
bled to consider of this supply, if now it be still in
their choice, whether they shall give it, or not, it
is also in their choice, whether the commonwealth
shall stand or not. And therefore there lieth not
upon any of them any civil obligation that may
hinder them from using force, in case they think
it tend to their defence. This device therefore of
them that will make civil laws first, and then a
civil body afterwards, (as if policy made a body
politic, and not a body politic made policy) is of no
eflFect.

15. Others, to avoid the hard condition, as they
take it, of absolute subjection, which, in hatred
thereto, they also call slavery, have devised a
government, as they think, mixed of the three
sorts of sovereignty. As for example : they sup-
pose the power of making laws, given to some
great assembly democratical, the power of judica-
ture to some other assembly, and the administra-
tion of the laws to a third, or to some one man ;
and this policy they call mixed monarchy, or mixed
aristocracy, or mixed democracy, according as any
of these three sorts do most visibly predominate.
And in this estate of government, they think the
use of the private sword excluded.

16. And supposing it were so, how were this
condition, which they call slavery , eased thereby.
For in this estate they would have no man allowed,
either to be his own judge, or own carver, or to
make any laws unto himself ; and as long as these
three agree, they are as absolutely subject to them,

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 135

as is a child to the father, or a slave to the master, part ii.
in the state of nature. The ease therefore of this . \' _^
subjection, must consist in the disagreement of
those amongst whom they have distributed the
rights of sovereign power. But the same disagree-
ment is war. The division therefore of the sove-
reignty, either worketh no eflFect to the taking away
of simple subjection, or introduceth war, wherein
the private sword hath place again. But the truth
is, as hath been already showed in the seventh,
eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth prece-
dent sections, the sovereignty is indivisible. And
that seeming mixture of several kinds of govern-
ment, is not mixture of the things themselves, but
confusion in our understandings, that cannot find
out readily to whom we have subjected ourselves.

17. But though the sovereignty be not mixed, Miieii go-
but be always either simple democracy, or simple
aristocracy, or pure monarchy, nevertheless in the
administration thereof, all those sorts of govern-
ment may have place subordinate. For suppose
the sovereign power be democracy, as it was some-
times in Rome, yet at the same time they may have
a council aristocratical, such as was the senate;
and at the same time they may have a subordinate
monarch, such as was their dictator, who had, for
a time, the exercise of the whole sovereignty, and
such as are all generals in war. So also in mo-
narchy there may be a coimcil aristocratical of
men, chosen by the monarch ; or democratical of
men, chosen by the consent, the monarch permit-
ting, of all the particular men of the common-
wealth. And this mixture is it that imposeth, as
if it were the mixture of sovereignty. As if a

136 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

]>ART II. man should think, because the great eouncil of

1.

^ Venice doth nothing ordinarily but choose magis-
trates, ministers of state, captains, and governors
of towns, ambassadors, counsellors, and the like,
that therefore their part of the sovereignty is only
choosing of magistrates ; and that the making of
war, and peace, and laws, were not theirs, but the
part of such counsellors as they appointed thereto :
whereas it is the part of these to do it but subordi-
nately, the supreme authority thereof being in the
great council that choose them.
Reaminaiid jg. Aud as rcasou teacheth us, that a man, con-

to prove abao. sidcrcd out of subjcction to laws, and out of all
wmewh^I^Si covenants obligatory to others, is free to do and
coimnoQweaiths ^j^do, aud deliberate as long as he listeth, every
member being obedient to the will of the whole
man, that liberty being nothing else but his natural
power, without which he is no better than an in-
animate creature, not able to help himself ; so also
it teacheth us, that a body politic, of what kind
soever, not subject to another, nor obliged by co-
venants, ought to be free, and in all actions to be
assisted by the members, every one in their place,
or at least, not resisted by them. For otherwise,
the power of a body politic, the essence whereof
is the not-resistance of the members, is none, nor
a body politic of any benefit. And the same is
confirmed by the use of all nations and common-
wealths, wherein that man or council, which is
virtually the whole, hath any absolute power over
eyery particular member ; or what nation or com-
monwealth is there, that hath not power and right
to constitute a general in their wars? But the
power of a general is absolute ; and consequently

k

DE CORPORE POLITICO, 137

there was absolate power in the commonwealth, part ir.
from whom it was derived. For no person, natural ^ \ .
or civil, can transfer unto another more power
than himself hath.

19. In every commonwealth, where particular so^e prind-

• , pall *c. niann

men are deprived of their right to protect them- of sovereignty
selves, there resideth an absolute sovereignty, as I
have already showed. But in what man, or in what
assembly of men the same is placed, is not so
manifest, as not to need some marks, whereby it
may be discerned. And first, it is an infallible mark
of absolute sovereignty in a man, or in an assembly
of men, if there be no right in any other person,
natural or civil, to punish that man, or to dissolve
that assembly. For he that cannot of right be
punished, cannot of right be resisted ; and he that
cannot of right be resisted, hath coercive power
over all the rest, and thereby can frairie and govern
their actions at his pleasure, which is absolute
sovereignty. Contrariwise, he that in a common-
wealth is punishable by any, or that assembly that
is dissolvable, is not sovereign. For a greater
power is always required to punish and dissolve,
than theirs who are punished or dissolved; and
that power cannot be called sovereign, than which
there is a greater. Secondly, that man or assembly,
that by their own right not derived from the pre-
sent right of any other, may make laws, or abrogate
them at his or their pleasure, have the sovereignty
absolute. For seeing the laws they make, are sup-
posed to be made by right, the members of the
commonwealth, to whom they are made, are
obliged to obey them, and consequently not resist
the execution of them ; which not- resistance.

138 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

'ART II. maketh the power absolute of him that ordaineth
'; . them. It is likewise a mark of this sovereignty,
to have the right original of appointing magistrates,
judges, counsellors, and ministers of state. For
without that power, no act of sovereignty, or go-
vernment, can be performed. Lastly, and generally,
whosoever by his own authority independent, can
do any act, which another of the same common-
wealth may not, must needs be understood to have
the sovereign power. For by nature men have
equal right. This inequality therefore must pro-
ceed from the power of the commonwealth. He
therefore that doth any act lawfully by his own
authority, which another may not, doth it by the
power of the commonwealth in himself, which is
absolute sovereignty.

CHAPTER H.

1. Democracy preccdeth all other, &c. 1. The sovereigQ peo-
ple covenanteth not with the subjects. 3. The sovereign, &c.
cannot, &c. do injury, &c. 4. The faults of the sovereign
people, &c. 5. Democracy, &c. an aristocracy of oraton.
6. Aristocracy how made. 7* The body of the optimaies not
properly said to injure the subjects. 8. The election of the
optimatesy &c. 9. An elective king, &c. 10. A conditional
king, &c. 11. The word people equivocal. 12. Obedience
discharged by release, &c 13. How such releases are to be
understood. 14*. Obedience discharged by exile: 15. By
conquest : 16. By ignorance of the right of succession.

Nomocracy 1 . Having spokeu ui gcucral concerning instituted

uTo!ct!*&c. policy in the former chapter, I come in this, to

speak of the sorts thereof in special, how every of

them is instituted. The first in order of time of

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 139

these three sorts, is democracy ; and it must be so part it.
of necessity, because an aristocracy and a monar- , ^' .
chy, require nomination of persons agreed upon,
which agreement in a great multitude of men, must
consist in the consent of the major part; and
where the votes of the major part involve the votes
of the rest, there is actually a democracy.

2. In the making of a democracy, there passeth Thesove-

. , . . 1 • J I. r«g° people

no covenant between the sovereign, and any sub- covenantcth no<
ject. For while the democracy is a making, there '*''*'*^"*^J^^
is no sovereign with whom to contract. For it
cannot be imagined, that the multitude should
contract with itself, or with any one man, or num-
ber of men, parcel of itself, to make itself sove-
reign; nor that a multitude, considered as one
aggregate, can give itself anything which before it
had not. Seeing then that sovereignty democra-
tical is not conferred by the covenant of any mul-
titude, which supposeth union and sovereignty
already made, it resteth, that the same be conferred
by the particular covenants of every several man ;
that is to say, every man with every man, for and
in consideration of the benefit of his own peace and
defence, covenanteth to stand to and obey whatso-
ever the major part of their whole number, or the
major part of such a number of them, as shall be
pleased to assemble at a certain time and place,
shall determine and command. And this is that
which giveth being to a democracy, wherein the
sovereign assembly was called of the Greeks, by
the name of Demus^ that is, the people, from
whence cometh democracy. So that, where to the
supreme and independent court, every man may
come that will, and give his vote, there the sove-
reign is called the people.

140 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART 11. 3. Out of this that hath been said, may readily
. ^ . be drawn, that whatsoever the people doth to any
The wvfTeign, one paTticular member or subject of the common-
do '5^ &c. wealth, the same by him ought not to be styled
injury. For first, injury, by the definition. Part I.
chap. III. sect. 2, is breach of covenant ; but cove-
nants, as hath been said in the precedent section,
there passed none from the people to any private
man ; and consequently it, to wit, the people, can
do him no injury. Secondly, how unjust soever
the action be, that this sovereign demus shall do,
is done by the will of every particular man subject
to him, who are therefore guilty of the same, ff
therefore they style it injury, they but accuse
themselves. And it is against reason for the same
man, both to do and complain ; implying this con-
tradiction, that whereas he first ratified the people's
acts in general, he now disalloweth the same of
them in particular. It is therefore said truly,
roleiiti non Jit injuria. Nevertheless nothing doth
hinder, but that divers actions done by the people,
may be unjust before God Almighty, as breaches of
the laws of nature.
Thefeuiuof 4. And when it happeneth, that the people by
people, &c. plurality of voices, decree or command anything
contrary to the law of God or nature, though the
decree and command be the act of every man,
not only present in the assembly, but also absent
from it ; yet is not the injustice of the decree, the
injustice of every particular man, but only of those
men, by whose express suflFrages, the decree or
command was passed. For a body politic, as it is
a fictitious body, so are the faculties and will
thereof fictitious also. But to make a particular

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 141

man unjust^ which consisteth of a body and soul part it.
natural, there is required a natural and very will. . ^; .

5. In all democracies, though the right of sove- Democracy,
reignty be in the assembly, which is virtually the cti^ditnxon,
whole body ; yet the use thereof is always in one,

or a few particular men. For in such great assem-
blies, as those must be, whereinto every man may
enter at his pleasure, there is no means any ways
to deliberate and give counsel what to do, but by
long and set orations, whereby to every man there
is more or less hope given, to incline and sway the
assembly to their own ends. In a multitude of
speakers therefore, where always either one is
eminent alone, or a few being equal amongst them-
selves, are eminent above the rest, that one or
few must of necessity sway the whole. Insomuch,
that a democracy, in effect, is no more than an
aristocracy of orators, interrupted sometimes with
the temporary monarchy of one orator.

6. And seeing a democracy is by institution, the Amtocracy
beginning both of aristocracy and monarchy, we

are to consider next, how aristocracy is derived
from it. When the particular members of the
commonwealth growing weary of attendance at
public courts, as dwelling far oflF, or being attentive
to their private businesses, and withal, displeased
with the government of the people, assemble them-
selves to make an aristocracy, there is no more
required to the making thereof but putting to the
question one by one, the names of such men as it
shall consist of, and assenting to their election;
and by plurality of vote, to transfer that power,
which before the people had, to the number of men
80 named and chosen.

142 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. 7* And from this manner of erecting an aristo-
^ ^' _. cracy, it is manifest^ that the few, or optimates.
The body have entered into no covenant with any of the par-
matnwA'^ ticular membcrs of the commonwealth, whereof
jwi^u^iSto. *^®y ^® sovereign ; and consequently cannot do
any thing to any private man, that can be called
injury to him, howsoever their act be wicked be-
fore Almighty God, according to that which hath
been said before, section 3. Further, it is impossi-
ble, that the people, as one body politic, should
covenant with the aristocracy or optimateSy on
whom they intend to transfer their sovereignty.
For no sooner is the aristocracy erected, but the
democracy is annihilated, and the covenants made
unto them void.
'^^tt^i'^L ^- ^^ ^ aristocracies, the admission of such, as
are from time to time to have vote in the sovereign
assembly, dependeth on the will and decree of the
present optimates. For they being the sovereign,
have the nomination, by the eleventh section of the
former chapter, of all magistrates, ministers, and
counsellors of state whatsoever, and may therefore
choose either to make them elective, or hereditary,
at their pleasure.
An eiccuve 9. Out of thc samc democracy, the institution

kiiig. ^. q£ ^ political monarch proceedeth in the same man-
ner, as did the institution of the aristocracy, to
wit, by a decree of the sovereign people, to pass
the sovereignty to one man named and approved
by plurality of suffrage. And if this sovereignty
be truly and indeed transferred, the estate or com-
monwealth is an absolute monarchy, wherein the
monarch is at liberty, to dispose as well of the suc-
cession, as of the possession, and not an elective

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 143

kiDgdom. For suppose a decree be made first in part ii.
this manner, that such a one shall have the sove- . ^
reignty for his life^ and that afterward they will An dectiTe
choose a-new. In this case, the power of the peo- *^' *^
pie is dissolved^ or not ; if dissolved, then after the
death of him that is chosen, there is no man bound
to stand to the decrees of them that shaU^ as pri-
vate men, run together to make a new election ;
and consequently, if there be any man, who by
the fiidvantage of the reign of him that is dead^
hath strength enough to hold the multitude in
peace and obedience, he may lawfully, or rather is
by the law of nature obliged so to do : if this power
of the people were not dissolved at the choosing of
their king for life, then is the people sovereign still,
and the king a minister thereof only, but so, as to
put the whole sovereignty in execution; a great
minister, but no otherwise for his time, than a dic-
tator was in Rome. In this case, at the death of
him that was chosen, they that meet for a new
election, have no new, but their old authority for
the same. For they were the sovereign all the
time, as appeareth by the acts of those elective
kings, that have procured from the people, that
their children might succeed them. For it is to be
understood, when a man receiveth any thing from
the authority of the people, he receiveth it not
from the people his subjects, but from the people
his sovereign. And further, though in the election
of a king for his life, the people grant him the ex-
ercise of their sovereignty for that time ; yet if
they see cause, they may recall the same before the
time. As a prince that conferreth an ofl&ce for
life, may nevertheless, upon suspicion of abuse

144 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. thereof, recall it at his pleasure ; inasmuch as
^; - ofl&ces that require labour and care, are under-
stood to pass from him that giveth them, as onera,
burthens, to them that have them ; the recalling
whereof are therefore not injury, but favour.
Nevertheless, if in making an elective king, with
intention to reserve the sovereignty, they reserve
not a power at certain known and determined
times and places to assemble themselves, the re-
servation of their sovereignty is of no eflFect, inas-
much as no man is bound to stand to the decrees
and determinations of those that assemble them-
selves without the sovereign authority.

A conditional iQ. lu thc fonucr scctiou is showed, that elective
kings that exercise their sovereignty for a time,
which determines with their life, either are sub-
jects, or not sovereigns ; and that it is, when the
people in election of them, reserve unto themselves
the right of assembling at certain times and places
limited and made known; or else absolute sove-
reigns, to dispose of the succession at their plea-
sure, and that is, when the people in their election
have declared no time nor place of their meeting,
or have left it to the power of the elected king, to
assemble and dissolve them at such times, as he
himself shall think good. There is another kind
of limitation of time, to him that shall be elected to
use the sovereign power, which whether it hath
been practised anywhere, or not, I know not, but
it may be imagined, and hath been objected against
the rigour of sovereign power; and it is this, that
the people transfer their sovereignty upon con-
ditions. As for example, for so long as he shall
observe such and such laws, as they then prescribe

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 145

him. And here as before in elected kings, the partii.
question is to be made, whether in the electing of . ^' .
such a sovereign, they reserved to themselves a
right of assembling at times and places limited and
known, or not ; if not, then is the sovereignty of
the people dissolved, and they have neither power
to judge of the breach of the conditions given him,
nor to command any forces for the deposing of
him, whom on that condition they had set up, but
are in the estate of war amongst themselves, as
they were before they made themselves a demo-
cracy : and consequently, if he that is elected by
the advantage of the possession he hath of the
public means, be able to compel them to unity and
obedience, he hath not only the right of nature
to warrant him, but the law of nature to oblige
him thereunto. But if in electing him, they re-
served to themselves a right of assembling, and
appointed certain times and places to that pur-
pose, then are they sovereign still, and may call
their conditional king to account at their pleasure,
and deprive him of his government, if they judge
he deserve it, either by breach of the condition set
him, or otherwise. For the sovereign power can
by no covenant with a subject be bound to continue
him in the charge he undergoeth by their com-
mand, as a burden imposed not particularly for his
good, but for the good of the sovereign people.

11. The controversies that arise concerning the The word
right of the people, proceed from the equivocation ^~^**^'"''*^
of the word. For the word people hath a double
signification. In one sense it signifieth only a
number of men, distinguished by the place of their
habitation ; as the people of England, or the people

VOL. IV. L

146 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. of France, which is no more, but the mnltitude of
. ^ . those particular persons that inhabit those r^ons,
Thewaid without cousideration of any contracts or cove-
y^^^^^ nants amongst them, by which any one of them is
obliged to the rest. In another sense, it signifieth
a person civil, that is to say, either one man, or
one council, in the will whereof, is included and
involved the will of every one in particular. As
for example, in this latter sense, the lower house of
parliament is all the commons, as long as diey rit
there with authority and right thereto ; but after
they be dissolved, though they remain, they be no
more the people, nor the commons, but only the
aggregate, or multitude of the particular men there
sitting, how well soever they agree, or concur, m
opinions amongst themselves ; whereupon, they
that do not distinguish between these two signifi-
cations, do usually attribute such rights to a dis-
solved multitude, as belong only to the people
virtually contained in the body of the common-
wealth or sovereignty. And when a great number
of their own authority flock together in any nation,
they usually give them the name of the whole
nation. In which sense they say the people rebel-
leth, or the people demandeth, when it is no more
than a dissolved multitude, of which though any
one man may be said to demand or have right to
something, yet the heap, or multitude, cannot be
said to demand or have right to anything. For
where every man hath his right distinct, there is
nothing left for the multitude to have right unto :
and when the particulars say, this is mine, this is
thine, and this is his, and have shared all amongst
them, there can be nothing whereof the multitade

Ik

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 147

can say, this is mine ; nor are they one body, as part it.
behoveth them to be, that demand anything under . ^ ^
the name of mine, or his : and when they say ours,
every man is understood to pretend in several, and
not the multitude. On the other side, when the
multitude is united into a body politic, and thereby
are a people in the other signification, and their
wills virtually in the sovereign, there the rights
and demands of the particulars do cease ; and he
or they that have the sovereign power, doth for
them all, demand, and vindicate under the name
of his, that which before they called in the plural,
theirs.

12. We have seen how particular men enter into obedience
subjection, by transferring their rights ; it folio weth by ^!^ &c.
to consider, how such subjection may be discharged.

And first, if he or they that have the sovereign
power, shall relinquish the same voluntarily, there
is no doubt, but every man is again at liberty to
obey, or not. Likewise, if he or they retaining the
sovereignty over the rest, do nevertheless exempt
some one or more, from their subjection, every
man so exempted, is discharged. For he or they
to whom any man is obliged, hath the power to
release him.

13. And here it is to be understood, that when Howwch
he or they that have the sovereign power, give E^^^SlsI^Jwd.
such exemption, or privilege, to a subject, as is not
separable from the sovereignty, and nevertheless
directly retaineth the sovereign power, not know-
ing the consequence of the privilege they grant, the
person or persons exempted or privileged, are not
thereby released. For in contradictory significa-
tions of the will (Oilman Nature, chap.xiii. sect. 9),

L 2

148

DB CORPORB POLITICO.

HMfgcd by cxuB.

PART II. that which is directly signified, is to be understood
^ . for the will, before that which is drawn from it by
consequence,
obedimee du. 14. Also cxilc perpctual, is a release of subjec-
tion, forasmuch, as being out of the protection of
the sovereignty that expelled him, he hath no means
of subsisting but from himself. Now every man
may lawfully defend himself, that hath no other
defence ; else there had been no necessity that any
man should enter into voluntary subjection, as they
do in commonwealths.

15. Likewise a man is released of his subjection
by conquest. For when it cometh to pass, that
the power of a commonwealth is overthrown, and
any particular man thereby lying under the sword
of his enemy, yieldeth himself captive, he is thereby
bound to sen^e him that taketh him, and conse-
quently discharged of his obligation to the former.
For no man can serve tw^o masters.

16. Lastly, ignorance of the succession dis-
chargeth obedience. For no man can be under-
stood to be obliged to obey he know^eth not whom.

Bj

By ignorance
of the right
of Miccenion.

CHAPTER III.

1,2. Titles to dominion: master and servant, &c. 3. Chaiitf
and other, &c. Bonds, &c. Slave defined. 4. Servants hvre
no property against their lord, &c. 5. The master hath right
to alienate his servant. 6. The servant of the servant, &C.
7. How servitude is discharged. 8. The middle lord, &c
9. The title of man, &c. over beasts.

Titiefi to do. 1 . Having set forth in the two preceding chapters,

and •erVwt dec. the naturc of a commonwealth institutive by the

consent of many men together, I come now to

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 149

speak of dominion, or a body politic by acquisition, part ii.
which is commonly called a patrimonial kingdom. ^ ^' ^
But before I enter thereinto, it is necessary to make xiues to do.
known upon what title one man may acquire right, ^^^rill" &'c
that is to say, property or dominion, over the per-
son of another. For when one man hath dominion
over another, there is a little kingdom. And to
be a king by acquisition, is nothing else, but to
have acquired a right or dominion over many.

2. Considering men therefore again in the state
of nature, without covenants or subjection one to
another, as if they were but even now all at once
created male and female, there be three titles only,
by which one man may have right and dominion
over another ; whereof two may take place pre-
sently, and those are, voluntary oflfer of subjection,
and yielding by compulsion : the third is to take
place, upon the supposition of children begotten
amongst them. Concerning the first of these three
titles, it is handled before in the two last chapters.
For from thence cometh the right of sovereigns
over their subjects in a commonwealth institutive.
Concerning the second title, which is when a man
submitteth to an assailant for fear of death, thereby
accnieth a right of dominion. For where every
man, as it happeneth in this case, hath right to all
things, there needs no more for the making of the
said right eflfectual, but a covenant from him that
is overcome, not to resist him that overcometh.
And thus cometh the victor to have right of abso-
lute dominion over the conquered. By which there
is presently constituted a little body politic, which
consisteth of two persons, the one sovereign, which
is called the master^ or lord; the other subject.

160 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART I L which is called the servant. And when a man

^ ^; _ hath acquired right over a number of servants so

considerable^ as they cannot by their neighbours

be securely invaded, this body politic is a kingdom

despotical.

^^ "d 3. And it is to be understood, that when a ser-

other, dec. _ , ,

bond*, dec vant taken in the wars, is kept bound in natural
' bonds, as chains, and the like, or in prison^ there
hath passed no covenant from the servant to his
master. For those natural bonds have no need of
strengthening by the verbal bonds of covenant,
and they show that the servant is not trusted. But
covenant, (Part I. chapter ii. section 9,) supposeth
trust. There remaineth therefore in the servant
thus kept bound, or in prison, a right of delivering
himself, if he can, by what means soever. This
kind of servant is that which ordinarily and with-
out passion, is caUed a slave. The Romans had
no such distinct name, but comprehended all nnder
the name of servus ; whereof such as they loved
and durst trust, were suflfered to go at liberty, and
admitted to places of office, both near to their per-
sons, and in their affairs abroad ; the rest were
kept chained, or otherwise restrained with natural
impediments to their resistance. And as it was
amongst the Romans, so it was amongst other
nations, the former sort having no other bond but
a supposed covenant, without which the master
had no reason to trust them; the latter being
without covenant, and no otherwise tied to obe-
dience, but by chains, or other like forcible custody.
.serrants 4. A mastcr thercforc is to be supposed to have

i!^^^ no less right over those, whose bodies he leaveth
their lord, dec. ^^ ^berty, than over those he keepeth in bonds and

DS CORPORE POLITICO. 151

imprisonment, and hath absolute dominion over part ii.
both, and may say of his servant, that he is his, as . ^' . .
he may of any other thing. And whatsoever the
servant had, and might call his, is now the master's;
for he that disposeth of the person, disposeth of all
the person could dispose of : insomuch, as though
there be meum and tuum amongst servants distinct
from one another by the dispensation, and for the
benefit of their master ; yet there is no meum and
tuum belonging to any of them against the master
himself, whom they are not to resist, but to obey
all his commands as law.

5. And seeing both the servant and all that is The master hati
committed to Mm, is the property of the master, TZ^'
and every man may dispose of his own, and transfer

the same at his pleasure, the master may therefore
alienate his dominion over them, or give the same
by his last will to whom he list.

6. And if it happen, that the master himself by Th© aemuit of
captivity or voluntary subjection, become servant

to another, then is that other master paramount ;
and those servants of him that becometh servant,
are no further obliged, than their master paramount
shall think good; forasmuch as he disposing of
the master subordinate, disposeth of all he hath,
and consequently of his servants, so that the re-
striction of absolute power in masters, proceedeth
not from the law of nature, but from the political
law of him that is their master supreme or sovereign.

7. Servants immediate to the supreme master. How tenritad*
are discharged of their servitude, or subjection, in " ^^^'^^
the same manner that subjects are released of their
allegiance in a commonwealth institutive. As first,

by release. For he that captiveth, which is done

152

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II.

3.

The middle
lord. Sec.

by accepting what the captive transferreth to him,
setteth again at liberty, by transferring back the
same. And this kind of release is called nuinumU'
sion. Secondly, by exile. For that is no more
but manumission given to a servant, not in the
way of benefit, but punishment. Thirdly, by a new
captivity, where the servant having done his en-
deavour to defend himself, hath thereby performed
his covenant to his former master, and for the
safety of his life, entering into new covenant with
the conqueror, is bound to do his best endeavour to
keep that likewise. Fourthly, ignorance of who is
successor to his deceased master, dischargeth him
of obedience : for no covenant holdeth longer than
a man knoweth to whom he is to perform it. And
lastly, that servant that is no longer trusted, but
committed to his chains and custody, is thereby
discharged of the obligation in foro intemo, and
therefore if he can get loose, may lawfully go his
way.

8. But servants subordinate, though manumitted
by their immediate lord, are not thereby discharged
of their subjection to their lord paramount. For
the immediate master hath no property in them,
having transferred his right before to another,
namely, to his own and supreme master. Nor if
the chief lord should manumit his immediate ser-
vant, doth he thereby release his servants of their
obligation to him that is so manumitted. For by
this manumission, he recovereth again the absolute
dominion he had over them before. For after a
release, which is the discharge of a covenant, the
right standeth as it did before the covenant was
made.

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 153

9. This right of conquest, as it maketh one man part ii.
master over another, so also maketh it a man to . ^; .
be master of the irrational creatures. For if a The tide of mai
man in the state of nature be in hostility with men, ""^^
and thereby have lawful title to subdue or kill, ac-
cording as his own conscience and discretion shall
suggest unto him for his safety and benefit, much
more may he do the same to beasts ; that is to say,
save and preserve for his own service, according
to his discretion, such as are of nature apt to obey,
and commodious for use ; and to kill and destroy,
with perpetual war, all other, as fierce, and noisome
to him. And this dominion is therefore of the law
of nature, and not of the divine law positive. For
if there had been no such right before the reveal-
ing of God's will in the Scripture, then should no
man, to whom the Scripture hath not come, have
right to make use of those his creatures, either for
his food or sustenance. And it were a hard con-
dition of mankind, that a fierce and savage beast
should with more right kill a man, than a man a
beast.

154 DB COBPORB POLITICO.

CHAPTER rV.

1. The dominioQ over the child, &c. 2. Pre-eminenoe of
giveth not the child to the father, rather than to the modier.
3. The title of the father or mother, &c 4*. The child of a
woman-servant, &c. 5. The right to the cluld given from the
motlier, &c 6. The child of the concubine, &c. ?• The
child of the husband and the wife. Sec 8. The father, or he
or she that bringeth up the child, have absolute power over
him. 9. Freedom in subjects what it is. 10. A great family
is a patrimonial kingdom. 11. Succession of the sovereign
power, &c. 12. Though the successor be not declared, yet
there is alwap one to be presumed. 13. The children pre*
ferred to the succession, &c. 14. The males before the
females. 15. The eldest before the rest of the brothers
16. The brother next to the children. !?• The sucoessioD
of the possessor, &c.

PART II. 1* Of three ways by which a man beeometh sub-
, ** ject to another^ mentioned section 2, chapter the
Th« doui. last, namely, volmitary offer, captivity and birth,
STcwid'&c. t^^ former two have been spoken of, under the
name of subjects, and servants. In the next
place, we are to set down the third way of subjec-
tion, under the name of children, and by what title
one man cometh to have propriety in a child, that
proceedeth from the common generation of two ;
to wit, of male and female. And considering men
again dissolved from all covenants one with an-
other, and that (Part I. chap. iv. sect. 2) every
man by the law of nature, hath right or propriety
to his own body, the child ought rather to be the
propriety of the mother, of w^hose body it is part,
till the time of separation, than of the father. For
the understanding therefore of the right that a

k,

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 155

man or woman hath to his or their child^ two things part ii.
are to be considered ; first, what title the mother^ ^ '^^ .
or any other, originally hath, to a child new bom :
secondly, how the father, or any other man, pre-
tendeth by the mother.

2. For the first, they that have written of this Pte^minence
subject, have made generation to be a title of do- not the chud
minion over persons, as well as the consent of the ^^^'
persons themselves. And because generation giveth ^ ^ °**'^''''-
title to two, namely, father and mother, whereas
dominion is indivisible, they therefore ascribe
dominion over the child to the father only, obpne-
stantiam sexiis ; but they show not, neither can I

find out by what coherence, either generation in-
ferreth dominion, or advantage of so much strength,
which, for the most part, a man hath more than a
woman, should generally and universally entitle
the father to a propriety in the child, and take it
away from the mother.

3. The title to dominion over a child, proceedeth The tide of

^_ •i./»i .the father or

not from the generation, but from the preservation mother, d^
of it ; and therefore in the estate of nature, the
mother, in whose power it is to save or destroy it,
hath right thereto by that power, according to that
which hath been said. Part I. chapter i. sect. 13.
And if the mother shall think fit to abandon, or
expose her child to death, whatsoever man or
woman shall find the child so exposed, shall have
the same right which the mother had before ; and
for this same reason, namely, for the power not of
generating, but preserving. And though the child
thus preserved, do in time acquire strength, where-
by he might pretend equality with him or her that
hath preserved him, yet shall that pretence be

156

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II.
4.

The child
of a womoQ
servant, ^c.

thought unreasonable, both because his strength
was the gift of him, against whom he pretendeth,
and also because it is to be presumed, that he which
giveth sustenance to another, whereby to strengthen
him, hath received a promise of obedience in con-
sideration thereof. For else it would be wisdom
in men, rather to let their children perish, while
they are infants, than to live in their danger or
subjection, when they are grown.

4. For the pretences which a man may have to
dominion over a child by the right of the mother,
they be of divers kinds. One by the absolute sub-
jection of the mother ; another, by some particular
covenant from her, which is less than a covenant
of such subjection. By absolute subjection, the
master of the mother, hath right to her child, ac-
cording to section 6, chapter iii, whether he be the
father thereof, or not. And thus the children of the
servant are the goods of the master in perpetuum.
The right to the 5. Of covenants that amount not to subjection

chadgivenfrom ^i i i- i_

the mother, &c. bctwcen a man and woman, there be some which
are made for a time ; they are covenants of coha-
bitation, or else of copulation only. And in this
latter case, the children pass by covenants parti-
cular. And thus in the copulation of the Amazons
with their neighbours, the fathers by covenant had
the male children only, the mothers retaining the
females.

6. And covenants of cohabitation are either for
society of bed, or for society of all things ; if for
society of bed only, then is the woman called a
concubine. And here also the child shall be his or
hers, as they shall agree particularly by covenant.
For although for the most part, a concubine is sup-

The chUd of the
concubine, ice.

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 157

posed to yield up the right of her children to the part ii.
father, yet doth not concubinate enforce so much. . ^; .

7. But if the covenants of cohabitation be for The cww of
society of all things, it is necessary that but one of andth^wife,*.
them govern and dispose of all that is common to

them both ; without which, as hath been often said
before, society cannot last. And therefore the man,
to whom for the most part the woman yieldeth the
government, hath for the most part, also, the sole
right and dominion over the children. And the
man is called the husband, and the woman the wife.
But because sometimes the government may be-
long to the wife only, sometimes also the dominion
over the children shall be in her only. As in the
case of a sovereign queen, there is no reason that
her marriage should take from her the dominion
over her children.

8. Children therefore, whether they be brought The &ther,
up and preserved by the father, or by the mother, Sat hiSigeth
or by whomsoever, are in most absolute subjection SSr^hwiIite
to him or her, that so bringeth them up, or pre- ^^^ '^^^ ^
serveth them. And they may alienate them, that

is, assign his or her dominion, by selling, or giving
them, in adoption or servitude to others ; or may
pawn them for hostages, kill them for rebellion, or
sacrifice them for peace, by the law of nature, when
he or she, in his or her conscience, think it to be
necessary.

9. The subjection of them who institute a com- Freedom in su
monwealth amongst themselves, is no less absolute, "^ ^ ' **
than the subjection of servants. And therein they

are in eqoal estate. But the hope of those is greater
than the hope of these. For he that subjecteth
himself uncompelled, thinketh there is reason he

158 DS CORPORE POLITICO.

PART n. should be better used, than he that doth it upon
. ^ __. compulsion ; and coining in freely, calleth himself,
though in subjection, a freeman ; whereby it ap-
peareth, that liberty is not any exemption from
subjection and obedience to the sovereign power,
but a state of better hope than theirs, that have
been subjected by force and conquest. And this
was the reason, that the name which signifieth
children in the Latin tongue, is liberie which also
signifieth freemen. And yet in Rome, nothing at
that time was so obnoxious to the power of others,
as children in the family of their fathers. For both
the state had power over their life without consent
of their fathers, and the father might kill his son
by his own authority, without any warrant from
the state. Freedom therefore in commonwealths is
nothing but the honour of equality of favour with
other subjects, and servitude the estate of the rest
A freeman therefore may expect employments of
honour, rather than a servant. And this is all that
can be understood by the liberty of the subject
For in all other senses, liberty is the state of him
that is not subject.
A gnat fiuniij 1 0. Now whcu a father that hath children, hath
nii khS^^ servants also, the children, not by the right of the
child, but by the natural indulgence of the parents,
are such freemen. And the whole, consisting of
the father or mother, or both, and of the children,
and of the servants, is called a family^ wherein the
father or mother of the family is sovereign of the
same, and the rest, both children and servants
equally, subjects. The same family, if it grow by
multiplication of children, either by generation, or
adoption; or of servants, either by generation,

k

DB CORPORB POLITICO. 159

conqnest, or yoluntary submission, to be so great part n.
and numerous, as in probability it may protect - *• .
itself, then is that family called a patrimonial king-
dam^ or monarchy by acquisition, wherein the sove-
reignty is in one man, as it is in a monarch made
by political institution. So that whatsoever rights
be in the one, the same also be in the other. And
therefore I shall no more speak of them as distinct,
but of monarchy in general.

11. Having showed by what right the several succMrfon
sorts of commonwealths, democracy, aristocracy, nign power, ^
and monarchy, are erected, it foUoweth, to show

by what right they are continued. The right by
which they are continued, is called the right of
succession to the sovereign power ; whereof there
is nothing to be said in a democracy, because the
sovereign dieth not, as long as there be subjects
alive : nor in an aristocracy, because it cannot easily
fall out, that the optimates should every one fail at
once ; and if it should so fall out, there is no ques-
tion, but the commonwealth is thereby dissolved.
It is therefore in a monarchy only, that there can
happen a question concerning the succession. And
first, forasmuch as a monarch, which is absolute
sovereign, hath the dominion in his own right, he
may dispose thereof at his own will. If therefore
by his last will, he shall name his successor, the
right passeth by that will.

12. Nor if the monarch die without any will Th«igh tha «
concerning the succession declared, it is not there- ciared, yet the
fore to be presumed, it was his will, his subjects, Sipi^^iS*
which are to him as his children and servants,
should return again to the state of anarchy, that

is, to war and hostility. For that were expressly

160 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART II. against the law of nature, which commandeth to
. \' _- procure peace, and to maintain the same. It is
therefore to be conjectured with reason, that it
was his intention to bequeath them peace, that is
to say, a power coercive, whereby to keep them
from sedition amongst themselves ; and rather in
the form of a monarchy, than any other govern-
ment ; forasmuch as he, by the exercise thereof in
his own person, hath declared, that he approveth
the same.
TJjjcMWfw 13. Further, it is to be supposed, his intention
•necnaon. Ice was, that his owu childreu should be preferred in
the succession, when nothing to the contrary is
expressly declared, before any other. For men
naturally seek their own honour, and that con-
sisteth in the honour of their children after them.
The male* be- 14. Again, sccing every monarch is supposed to

fore the femtXn. -i-^ ^. ^i ^ • t •

desire to continue the government m his succes-
sors, as long as he may ; and that generally men
are endued with greater parts of wisdom and
courage, by which all monarchies are kept from
dissolution, than women are ; it is to be presumed,
where no express will is extant to the contrary, he
preferreth his male children before the female.
Not but that women may govern, and have in
divers ages and places governed wisely, but are
not so apt thereto in general, as men.
The eldest 15. Bccausc thc sovereign power is indivisible,

ofuwbroth^ it cannot be supposed, that he intended the same
should be divided, but that it should descend
entirely upon one of them, which is to be pre-
sumed, should be the eldest, assigned thereto by
the lot of nature, because he appointed no other
lot for the decision thereof. Besides, what diflFer-

DE CORPORB POLITICO. 161

ence of ability soever there may be amongst the part ii.
brethren, the odds shall be adjudged to the elder, _ \' .
because no subject hath authority otherwise to
judge thereof.

16. And for want of issue in the possessor, the Thebrothemex
brother shall be presumed successor. For by the "" « " '^
judgment of nature, next in blood is next in love ;

and next in love is next to preferment.

17. And as the succession foUoweth the first The sucm-
monarch, so also it foUoweth him or her that is in ^!^eL>r, L.
possession ; and consequently, the children of him

in possession, shall be preferred before the children
of his father, or predecessor.

CHAPTER V.

1. The utility of the commonwealth, &c. 2. The loss of liberty,
&c S. Monarchy approved by, &c. 4. Monarchy less sub-
ject to passion, &c 5, 6. Subjects in monarchy, &c. 7. Laws
in monarchy less changeable, &c. 8. Monarchies less subject
to dissolution.

1. Having set forth the nature of a Body Politic, ThentiKty
and the three sorts thereof, democracy, aristocracy, monwedth, ke.
and monarchy ; in this chapter shall be declared,
the conveniences J and inconveniences, that arise
from the same, both in general, and of the said
several sorts in particular. And first, seeing a
body politic is erected only for the ruling and
governing of particular men, the benefit and da-
mage thereof, consisteth in the benefit or damage
of being ruled. The benefit is that for which a
body politic was instituted, namely, the peace and
preservation of every particular man, than which
it is not possible there can be a greater, as hath

VOL. IV. M

162 DK CORPORK POLITICO.

PART 11. been touched before. Part I. chapter i. section 12.

^ ^' ^ And this benefit extendeth equally both to the
Theatffitj sovereign, and to the subjects. For he or they
m^S^ ice that have the sovereign power, have but the defence
of their persons, by the assistance of the particu-
lars ; and every particular man hath his defence by
their union in the sovereign. As for other benefits,
which pertain not to tiieir safety and sufi&ciency,
but to their weU and delightful being, such as are
superfluous riches, they so belong to the soyerdgn,
as they must also be in the subject ; and so to the
subject, as they must also be in the sovereign. For
tiie riches and treasure of the sovereign, is the
dominion he hath over the riches of his subjects.
If therefore the sovereign provide not so as that
particular men may have means, both to preserve
themselves, and also to preserve the public; the
common or sovereign treasure can be none. And
on the other side, if it were not for a common and
public treasure belonging to the sovereign power,
men's private riches would sooner serve to put
them into confusion and war, than to secure and
maintain them. Insomuch, as the profit of the
sovereign and subject goeth always together. That
distinction therefore of government, that there is
one government for the good of him that govern-
eth, and another for the good of them that be
governed ; whereof the former is despotical, that
is lordly; the other, a government of Jreememy '\b
not right. No more is the opinion of them that
hold it to be no city, which consisteth of a master
and his servants. They might as well say, it were
no city, that consisted in a father and his own
issue, how numerous soever they were. For to a

k

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 163

master that hath no children, the servants have in part ii.
them all those respects, for which men love their ^ ^- .
children. For they are his strength and his honour.
And his power is no greater over them, than over
his children.

2. The inconvenience arising from government The io«
in general to him that govemeth, consisteth partly
in the continual care and trouble about the business
of other men, that are his subjects ; and partly, in
the danger of his person. For the head always is
that part, not only where the care resideth, but
also against which the stroke of an enemy most
commonly is directed. To balance this incommo-
dity, the sovereignty, together with the necessity
of this care and danger, comprehendeth so much
honour, riches, and means, whereby to delight the
mind, as no private man's wealth can attain unto.
The inconveniences of government in general to a
subject are none at all, if well considered, but in
appearance. There be two things that may trouble
his mind, or two general grievances ; the one is,
loss of liberty ; the other, the uncertainty of meum
and tuum. For the first, it consisteth in this, that
a subject may no more govern his own actions
according to his own discretion and judgment, or,
which is all one, conscience, as the present occa-
sions from time to time shall dictate to him ; but
must be tied to do according to that will only,
which once for all he had long ago laid up, and
involved in the wills of the major part of an as-
sembly, or in the will of some one man. But this
is really no inconvenience. For, as it hath been
showed before, it is the only means, by which we
have any possibility of preserving ourselves. For

M 2

164 DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. if every man were allowed this liberty of following
. ^ . his conscience, in such diflFerence of consciences,
TheinM they would not live together in peace an hour,
of liberty, ke. g^^ .^ appcarcth a great inconvenience to every

man in particular, to be debarred of this liberty,
because every one apart considereth it as in him-
self, and not as in the rest; by which means,
liberty appeareth in the likeness of rule and govern-
ment over others. For where one man is at liberty,
and the rest bound, there that one hath govern-
ment ; which honour, he that understandeth not
so much, demanding by the name simply of liberty,
thinketh it a great grievance and injury to be
denied it. For the second grievance concerning
fneum and tuum, it is also none, but in appearance
only ; it consisteth in this, that the sovereign power
taketh from him that which he used to enjoy,
knowing no other propriety, but use and custom.
But without such sovereign power, the right of
men is not propriety to anything, but a community,
no better than to have no right at all, as hath
been showed. Part I. chapter i. section 10. Pro-
priety therefore being derived from the sovereign
power, is not to be pretended against the same,
especially, when by it every subject hath his pro-
priety against every other subject, which when
sovereignty ceaseth, he hath not, because in that
case they return to war amongst themselves. Those
levies therefore which are made upon men's estates,
by the sovereign authority, are no more but the
price of that peace and defence which the sove-
reignty maintaineth for them. If this were not
so, no money nor forces for the wars, nor any
other public occasion, could justly be levied in the

BE CORPORE POLITICO. 165

world. For neither king, nor democracy, nor fartii.
aristocracy, nor the estates of any land, could do ^ ^; .
it, if the sovereignty could not. For in all those
cases, it is levied by virtue of the sovereignty.
Nay more, by the three estates here, the land of
one man may be transferred to another, without
crime of him from whom it was taken, and without
pretence of public benefit, as hath been done ; and
this without injury, because done by the sovereign
power. For the power whereby it is done, is no
less than sovereign, and cannot be greater. There-
fore this grievance for meum and tuum is not real,
unless more be exacted than is necessary ; but it
seemeth a grievance, because to them that either
know not the right of sovereignty, or to whom that
right belongeth, it seemeth an injury ; and injury,
how little soever the damage, is always grievous,
as putting us in mind of our disability to help
ourselves, and into envy of the power to do us
wrong.

3. Having spoken of the inconveniences of the Monarchy
subject, by government in general, let us consider "^^^"'^'^
the same in the three several sorts thereof, namely,
democracy, aristocracy and monarchy ; whereof
the two former are in eflFect but one. For, as I
have showed before, democracy is but the govern-
ment of a few orators. The comparison therefore
will be between monarchy and aristocracy : and to
omit that the world, as it was created, so also it is
governed by one God Almighty ; and that all the
ancients have preferred monarchy before other
governments, both in opinion, because they feigned
a monarchical government amongst their gods, and
also by their custom ; for that in the most ancient

166 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART 11. times all people were so governed : and that pa-
. ^ ^' . temal government, which is monarchy, was in-
stituted in the beginning from the creation ; and
that other governments have proceeded from the
dissolution thereof, caused by the rebellious nature
of mankind, and be but pieces of broken monarchies
cemented by human wit, I will insist only on this
comparison, upon the inconveniences that may
happen to the subjects in consequence to each of
these governments.

Monarchy 4 ^ ^ud first, it sccmcth iuconvenient there should

less subject , . , 1

to paasion, ^ bc Committed so great a power to one man, as that
it might be lawful to no other man or men to resist
the same ; and some think it inconvenient eo
nomine, because he hath the power. But this reason
we may not by any means admit, for it maketh it
inconvenient to be ruled by Almighty God, who
without question hath more power over every man,
than can be conferred upon any monarch. This
inconvenience therefore must be derived not from
the power, but from the aflFections and passions
which reign in every one, as well monarch as sub-
ject, by which the monarch may be swayed to use
that power amiss : and because an aristocracy con-
sisteth of men, if the passions of many men be
more violent when they are assembled together,
than the passions of one man alone, it will follow,
that the inconvenience arising from passions will
be greater in an aristocracy, than a monarchy.
But there is no doubt, when things are debated in
great assemblies, but every man deUvering his
opinion at large without interruption, endeavoureth
to make whatsoever he is to set forth for good,
better ; and what he would have apprehended as

DB OORPORB POLITICO. 167

evil, worse^ as much as is possible^ to the end his part ii.
counsel may take place; which counsel also is ^ ^' „ ,
never without aim at his own benefit, or honour ;
every man's end being some good to himself. Now
this cannot be done without working on the pas-
sions of the rest. And thus the passions of these
that are singly moderate, are altogether vehement ;
even as a great many coals, though but warm
asunder, being put together, inflame one another.

6. Another inconvenience of monarchy, is this, subjects »
that the .monarch, besides the riches necessary for"""^^'"^"
the defence of the commonwealth, may take so much
more from the subjects, as may enrich his chUdren,
kindred and favourites, to what degree he pleaseth ;
which though it be indeed an inconvenience, if
he should so do, yet is the same both greater in
an aristocracy, and also more likely to come to
pass, for there not one only, but many have chil-
dren, kindred, and friends to raise. And in that
point they are as twenty monarchs for one, and
likely to set forward one another's designs mutually,
to the oppression of all the rest. The same also
happeneth in a democracy, if they all do agree ;
otherwise they bring a worse inconvenience; to
wit, sedition.

6. Another inconvenience of monarchy, is the
power of dispensing with the execution of justice,
whereby the family and friends of the monarch,
may, with impunity, commit outrages upon the
people, or oppress them with extortion. But in
aristocracies, not only one, but many have power
of taking men out of the hands of justice, and no
man is willing his kindred or friends should be
punished according to their demerits. And there^

168 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PAUT II. fore they understand amongst themselves without
^ ^; . further speaking, as a tacit covenant, hodie mihi,

eras tibi.
aim in 7. Auothcr inconvenience of monarchy, is the

langeabie.&c powcr of altering laws. Concerning which, it is
necessary that such a power be, that laws may be
altered, according as men's maimers change, or as
the conjmicture of all circumstances within and
without the commonwealth shall require ; the
change of law being then inconvenient, when it
proceedeth from the change, not of the occasion,
but of the minds of him or them, by whose aa-
thority the laws are made. Now it is manifest
enough of itself, that the mind of one man is not
so variable in that point, as are the decrees of an
assembly. For not only they have all their natu-
ral changes, but the change of any one man may
be enough, with eloquence and reputation, or by
solicitation and faction, to make that law to-day,
which another by the very same means, shall abro-
gate to-morrow,
lonanhies 8. L#astly, thc greatest inconvenience that can

) dLMoiuUon. happen to a commonwealth, is the aptitude to dis-
solve into civil war ; and to this are monarchies
much less subject, than any other governments.
For where the union, or band of a commonwealth,
is one man, there is no distraction ; whereas in
assemblies, those that are of different opinions, and
give different counsel, are apt to fall out amongst
themselves, and to cross the designs of the com-
monwealth for one another's sake : and when they
cannot have the honour of making good their own
devices, they yet seek the honour to make the
counsels of their adversaries prove vain. And in

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 169

this contentioD, when the opposite factions happen part ii.
to be anything equal in strength, they presently ^ ^' ^
fall to war. Wherein necessity teacheth both sides, MooarcWet
that an absolute monarch, to wit, a general, is todhLutioo.
necessary both for their defence against one an-
other, and also for the peace of each faction within
itself. But this aptitude to dissolution, is to be
understood for an inconvenience in such aristocra-
cies only where the affairs of state are debated in
great and numerous assemblies, as they were an-
ciently in Athens, and in Rome ; and not in such
as do nothing else in great assemblies, but choose
magistrates and counsellors, and commit the hand-
ling of state affairs to a few ; such as is the aristo-
cracy of Venice at this day. For these are no more
apt to dissolve from this occasion, than monarchies,
the counsel of state being both in the one and the
other alike.

170 DB COBPOBB POUTICO.

CHAPTER VI.

1. A difficokr coocernin^ abBoIate tobjectioo to umn, araiDg
froiB our mbmiiite sabjectioa to God Almigfatj, propoanded.
!2. That this diificaltT u oolj ^mr^^gft thoie Chrktiaiu that
deny th« interpnitacioa of the Scripture to depend upon the
sovereign authority of the commonwealth. 3. That human
law9 are not made to gorem the conaciencet of men, but their
wonb and actiook -!» Places of Scripture to proTo obedience
due from Chrisdans to thor lovereign in all things. 5. A
dstinctioa propounded between a fundamental point of fiuth,
and a supemruction. 6. An explication of the points of faith,
that be fundamental. 7. That the belief of those fundamental
points* » all thai is required to sahration, as of faith. 8. That
other pointi not fundamental* are not necemarj to salratioo m
matter of £iith ; and that no more u required by way of faith to
the salvation of one man, than to the salvation of another. 9.
That superstmctions are not points of the faith necessary to a
Christian. 10. How faith and justioe concur to salyation.
1 1 . That in Christian commonwealths, obedience to God and
man stand well together. 12. This tenet, whatsoever is against
the conscience, is sin. interpreted. IS. That all men do confess
the necessity of submitting of controrersies to some human
authority. 1 i. That Christians under an infidel are discharged
of the injustice of disobeying him, in that which concemeth
the faith neces^sary to salvation, by not resisting.

PART 11. '* Having showed, that in all commonwealths

^ whatsoever, the necessity of peace and govemment

A diflkoitr requireth, that there be eitistent some power, either

h^^^^ in one man, or in one assembly of men, by the

to aun. «ri»ini^ iiamc of thc power sovereism, which it is not

frtm our abMv ^

\n%f tai^ctioii la>>'ful for any member of the same commonwealth
^^un*wL ^' to disobey ; there occurreth now a difficulty, which,
if it be not removed, maketh it unlawfnl for a man
to put himself under the command of such absolute
sovereignty as is required thereto. And the diffi-
culty is this ; we have amongst us the Word of God

DE CORPOAfe POLITICO. 171

)r the roliB of our actions : now if we shall subject part u,
orselves to men also, obli^ng ourselves to do such . ^' ^
ctions as shall be by them commanded, when the
ommands of God and man shall differ, we are to
bey God, rather than man ; and consequently, the
ovenant of general obedience to man is unlawful.

2. This difficulty hath not been of very great "^^^
ntiquity in the world. There was no such dilem^ Ll^ihL
M amongst the Jews; for their civil law, and deny the inter. *
ivine law, was one and the same law of Moses ; 1^1^^^ de.
he interpreters whereof were the priests, whose p«°^ ^p°" ^

*■ ^ * sovereign an-

ower was subordinate to the power of the king ; thonty ofthe
s was the power of Aaron, to the power of Moses. *^°™°"
for is it a controversy that was ever taken notice
f amongst the Grecians, Romans, or other Gen-
iles : for amongst these their several civil laws
eere the rules whereby not only righteousness and
irtue, but also religion, and the external worship
i God, was ordered and approved ; that being es-
eemed the true worship of God, which was Kara
a vo^t/ia, according to the laws civil. Also those
[Christians that dwell under the temporal dominion
)f the bishop of Rome, are free from this question ;
or that they allow unto him, their sovereign, to
nterpret the Scriptures, which are the law of God,
IS he in his own judgment shall think right. This
lifficulty therefore remaineth amongst, and trou-
)leth those Christians only, to whom it is allowed,
o take for the sense of the Scripture, that which
hey make thereof, either by their own private in-
«rpretation, or by the interpretation of such as
ire not called thereunto by public authority ; they
;hat follow their own interpretation continually,
lemanding liberty of conscience ; and those that

172

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II.
6.

follow the interpretation of others not ordained
thereunto by the sovereign of the commonwealth^
requiring a power in matters of religion either
above the power civil, or at least not depending
on it.
That hiinuui 3. To take away this scruple of conscience, con-
inldl» to'gmni ccming obedience to human laws, amongst those
STn^^liS^ t^at mterpret to themselves the word of God in the
FordB * Mikii*. Holy Scriptures, I propound to their consideration,
first, that no human law is intended to oblige the
conscience of a man, unless it break out into action,
either of the tongue, or other part of the body.
The law made thereupon would be of none efiTect,
because no man is able to discern, but by word or
other action whether such law be kept or broken.
Nor did the apostles themselves pretend dominion
over men's consciences, concerning the faith they
preached, but only persuasion and instruction. And
therefore St. Paul saith (2 Cor. i. 24), writing to
the Corinthians, concerning their controversies, that
he and the rest of the apostles had no dominion
over their faith, but were helpers of their joy.

4. And for the actions of men which proceed
from their consciences, the regulating of which
actions is the only means of peace, if they might
i^ di ori*^"^ not stand with justice, it were impossible that jus-
tice towards God, and peace amongst men, should
stand together in that religion that teacheth us,
that justice and peace shall kiss each oM^r, andin
which we have so many precepts of absolute obe-
dience to human authority ; as Matth. xxiii. 2, 3, we
have this precept : The Scribes and Pharisees sit
in Moses' seat ; all therefore whatsoever they bid
you observe, that observe and do. And yet were the

riiiceiiof
Si'ripttire to
pro^f ob«MU-
pticft due ttvm
ChriMtMns to

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 173

Scribes and Pharisees not priests, but men of tern- part ii.
poral authority. Again Luke xi. 17.' Every kingdom _ ^; ^
divided against itself shall be desolate ; and is Places of
not that kingdom divided against itself, where the \o provr^c.
actions of every one shall be ruled by his private
opinion, or conscience, and yet those actions such as
give occasion of oflFence and breach of peace ? Again
Rom. xiii. 6 : Wherefore you must he subject^
not because of wrath only^ but also for conscience
sake. Titus iii. 1 : Put them in remembrance^ that
they be subject to principalities and powers.
1 Peter ii. 13, 14: Submit yourselves unto all man-
ner of ordinance of man, for the hordes sahe^
whether it be unto the king, as unto the superior,
or unto governors, as unto them that are sent by
him for the punishment of evil doers. Jude,
verse 8: These dreamers also that defile the
flesh, and despise government, and speak evil of
them that are in authority. And forasmuch as all
subjects in commonwealths are in the nature of
children and servants, that which is a command to
them, is a command to all subjects. But to these
St. Paul saith (Colos. iii. 20, 22) : Children, obey
your parents in all things; servants, be obedient to
your masters according to the flesh in all things.
And verse 23 : Do it heartily as to the Lord. These
places considered, it seemeth strange to me, that
any man in a Christian commonwealth, should have
any occasion to deny his obedience to public autho-
rity, upon this ground, that it is better to obey
God than man. For though St. Peter and the
apostles did so answer the council of the Jews, that
forbad them to preach Christ, there appeareth no
reason that Christians should allege the same

174 DK COmPOKK POLITICO.

FAKT n. acamstdinrCliii<t]angaTeniors,thatooiiii^^
^ ^ u> pneadi Christ. To reconcile this seeming oontra-
dictiaii <^ simple obedience to God, and simple obe-
dience to man« we are to consider aGurisdan sobject^
as imder a Christian soTereign. or under an infidel
o. And onder a Christian soTcreign we are to
ccHisider. what actions we are forbidden by God
AlmishtT to ober them in, and what not. The
actions we are forbidden to obey them in, are sach
ooily* as imply a denial of that feith which is neces-
sarr to our salration : for otherwise there can be
no pretence odf disobedience ; for why should a man
incur the danser of a temporal death, by displeasing
of his superior, if it were not for fear of eternal death
hereafter r It must therefore be enquired, what
thix^ profK^iiions and articles be, the belief whereof
our Sariour or lus apostles have declared to be
such, as without believing them, a man cannot be
saved : and then all other points, that are now con-
trvnened. and made distinction of sects. Papists,
Lutherans, Cal^-inists.Arminiaus, &c. (as in old time,
the like made Paulists, Apollonians, and Cepha-
siaus'^^ must ueeds be such, as a man needeth not
fi>r the hoUUiis: thereof, denv obedience to his su-
jHTiors, And for the points of faith necessary to
salvation. I shall call them Jmndamentaly and every
other {K>int ii smp^fT^trmctioH.
vn v'xrJw**^* (K And without all controversy, there is not any
urtN i»u» b.- ntort* ittw^ssiin* pomt to be believed lor man s salva-
luu^i^Mui tiv>u than this/that Jesus is the Messiah, that is, tke
(ifist : which pn^ix^sition is explicated in sundry
sorts, but still the same in eflPect ; as, that he is
iioSs ffNOiMM/ : for that is signified by the word
I hrist : that he teas the true and laurful king of

DB CORPORB POLITICO. 175

Israel^ the son of David, the Saviour of the world j part \u
the redeemer of Israel, the salvation of God, he ^ ^ ^
that should come into the world, the son of God,
and, which I desire by the way to have noted,
against the now sect of Arians, the begotten Son of
Godj Acts iii. 13 ; Heb. v. 6 : The only begotten
Son of God, John i. 14, 18; John iii. 16, 18;
1 John iv. 9 : That he was God, John i. 1 ; John
XX. 28 : That the fulness of the Godhead dwelt in
him bodily, Coloss. ii. 9 : Moreover, the Holy One,
the Holy One of God, the for giver of sins, that
he is risen from the dead. These are explications,
and parts of that general article, that Jesus is the
Christ. This point therefore, and all the explica-
tions thereof are fundamental : as also all such as
be evidently inferred from thence ; as, belief in
God the Father: John xii. 44: He that believeth
in me, believeth not in me, but in him that sent me;
1 John ii. 23 : He that denieth the Son, hath not
the Father : belief in God the Holy Ghost,
of whom Christ saith, John xiv. 26 : But the Com^
forter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father
will send in my name : and John xv. 26 : But
when the Conforter shall come, whom I will send
unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth :
BELIEF OF THE SCRIPTURES, by which wc bclicve
those points and of the immortality of the soul,
without which we cannot believe he is a Saviour.

7. And as* these are the fundamental points of That the beKe.

^,- -, - ,-of tliose fanda-

faith necessary to salvation ; so also are they only mental points,
necessary as matter of faith, and only essential to ^^^^ ^^Z
the calling of a Christian ; as may appear by many tion.asof&ith
evident places of Holy Scripture : John v. 39 :
Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye

176 DR CORPORE POLITICO.

PART If. have eternal life, and they are they which testify
^ ^' . of me. Now, forasmuch as by the Scriptwre^ is
TiMciiiebeiwor meant there the Old Testament (the New being
tei poiillto, Ice. then not written), the belief of that which was
written concerning our Saviour in the Old Testa-
ment, was sufficient belief for the obtaining of
eternal life: but in the Old Testament, there is
nothing revealed concerning Christ, but that he is
the Messiah, and such things as belong to the
fundamental points thereupon depending. And
therefore those fundamental points are sufficient
to salvation as of faith. And John vi. 28, 29:
Then said they unto him. What shall we do, that
we might work the works of God? Jesus a»-
swered and said unto them. This is the work of
God, that ye believe in him, whom he hath sent.
So that the point to be believed is. That Jesus
Christ came forth from God, and he which he-
lieveth it, worketh the works of God. John xi.
26, 27 : Whosoever liveth and believeth in me,
shall never die. Believest thou this ? She said
unto him, Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art the
Christ, the Son of God, which sJiould come into
the world. Hence foUoweth, He that believeth
this, shall never die. John xx. 31 : But these
things are written, that ye might believe, that
Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God ; and that
believing, ye might have life through his name.
By which appeareth, that this fundamental point
is all that is required, as of faith to our salvation.
1 John iv. 2 : Every spirit that confesseth that
Jesus Christ is come in lie flesh, is of God:
1 John V. 1 : Whosoever believeth t/iat Jesus is
the Christ, is born of God ; and (verse 5) Who is

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 177

e that overcometh the worldy hut he that believeth, part ii.

hat Jesus is the Son of God : aud verse 1 3 : . ^; ^

Vhese things have I writte?i unto you that believe ThatthebeKefo'

» the name of the Son of God, thut ye may know tai^iX &c

hat ye have eternal life. Acts, viii. 36, 37 : The

unuch said, Here is water, what doth hinder me

o be baptized ? And Philip said unto him, If

hou believest with all thy heart, thou may est. He

inswered and said, I believe that Jesus Christ is

he Son of God. This point therefore was suffi-

;ient for the reception of man into baptism, that is

o say, to Christianity. And Acts, xvi. 29-31 : The

deeper of the prison fell down before Paul and

^ilas, and said, SirSj what shall I do to be saved ?

ind they said. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Ind the sermon of St. Peter, upon the day of Pen-

ecost, was nothing else but an explication, that

Jesus was the Christ. And wheii they had heard

liiw, they ashed him. What shall we do ? He

mid unto them^ (Acts, ii. 38) : Amend your lives,

ind be baptized every one of you in the rwme of

Jesus Christ for the remission of sins. Rom. x. 9:

\f thou shall confess with thy m>outh the Lord

Jesus, and shall believe in thy heart, that God

'aised him up from the dead, thou shall be saved.

To these places may be added, that wheresoever

)ur Saviour Christ doth approve the faith of any

nan, the proposition believed, if the same be to be

collected out of the text, is always some of these

iiudamental points before mentioned, or something

equivalent : as the faith of the centurion (Matth.

dii. 8) : Speak the word only, and my servant

fhall be healed; believing he was omnipotent : the

faith of the woman, which had an issue of blood,

VOL. IV. N

1 79 DB CORPOBE POLITICO.

PAKT II. (Matth. ix. 2 h : If I WMf bmi tomch the hem of his
^ ^ ^ garmemi : implyiiiff. he was the Messiah : the fiuth
required of the blind men. f Matth. ix. 28): Beliete
ffom that I am able to do thU ? the fiedth of the
Canaanitish woman. <Matth. 3^. 22), that he was
the Son of Darid, implying the same. And so it
is in every one of those phices. none excepted,
where our Saviour commendeth any man*s faith,
which because thev are too manv to insert here, I
omit, and refer them to his inqui^tion that is not
otherwise satisfied. And as there is no other faith
required, so there was no other preaching : for the
prophets of the Old Testament preached no other;
and John the Baptist preached only the approach
of the kingdom of heaven, that is to say, of the
kingdom of Christ. The same was the commission
of the apostles (Matth. x. 7) : Oo preach, Maying,
The kingilom of heaven is at hand. And Pkul
preaching amongrst the Jews, (Acts, xviii. 5), chd
but testify unto the Jews, that Jesns was the Christ.
And the heathens took notice of Christians no
otherwise, but bv this name, that thev believed
Jesus to be a hing, crying out, (Acts, xvii. 6, 7) :
These are they that hate subverted the state of
the worlds and here they are, tchom Jason hath
received. And these all do against the decrees
of Ctpsar, sayiPigj that there is another hing, one
Jesus. And this was the sum of the predictions,
the sum of the confessions of them that believed,
as well men as devils. This was the title of his
cross, Jesus of Nazareth, king of the Jews ; this
the occasion of the crown of thorns, sceptre of
reed, and a man to carry his cross ; this was the
subject of the Hosannas ; and this was the title,

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 179

by which our Saviour, commanding to take another part ii.
man's goods, bade them say, The Lord hath need ; ^ _.. ^r .
and by this title he purged the temple of the pro- xhatthebeuefof
fane market kept there. Nor did the apostles tai pointe, &c
themselves believe any more than that Jestis was
the Messiah, nor understand so much; for they
understood the Messiah to be no more than a tem-
poral king, till after our Saviour's resurrection.
Furthermore, this point, that Christ is the Mes^
siah, is particularly set forth for fundamental by
that word, or some other equivalent thereunto in
divers places. Upon the confession of Peter (Matth.
xvi. 16) : Thou art the Christy the son of the living
Godf our Saviour (verse 18) saith. Upon this
rock will I build my church. This point therefore
is the whole foundation of Christ's church. St.
Paul saith, (Rom. xv. 20) / so enforced myself to
preach the Gospel^ not where Christ was named^
lest I should have built upon another man's foun-
dation. St. Paul, (1 C!or. iii. 10) when he had
reprehended the Corinthians for their sects, and
curious doctrines and questions, he distinguisheth
between fundamental points, and super struction ;
and saith, / have laid the foundation, and another
buildeth thereupon ; but let every man take heed
how he buildeth upon it. For other foundation
can no man lay than that which is laid, which is
Jesus Christ. Coloss. ii. 6, 7 : As you have re^
ceived Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him^
rooted and builded in him, and stablished in the
faith.

8. Having showed this proposition, Jesus is the T»jat other

^ ^ ^ ' poiats not funda-

Christ, to be the only fundamental and necessary me»t*i. are not
point of faith^ I shall set down a few places more, vXT'^ mat.

N 2

180 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART II. to show, that other points, though they may he
^ ^ . true, are not so necessary to be believed, as that a
tmoriiut]i;aiMiman may not be saved, though he believe them
reqoM bTw^j ^^t. And first, if a man could not be saved with-
TlSiL^rf«^ out assent of the heart to the truth of all contro-
H^^j^'j^ versies, which are now in agitation concerning
religion y I cannot see, how any man living can be
saved ; so full of subtilty, and curious knowledge
it is to be so great a divine. Why therefore should
a man think that our Saviour, who (Matth. xi. 30),
saith, that his yoke is easy^ should require a mat-
ter of that difficulty? or how are little children
said to believe, (Matth. xviii. 6) ; or how could the
good thief be thought sufficiently catechised upon
the cross ? or St. Paul so perfect a Christian pre-
sently upon his conversion ? and though there may
be more obedience required in him that hath the
fundamental points explicated unto him, than in him
that hath received the same but implicitly; yet there
is no more faith required for salvation in one man,
than another. For if it be true, that Whosoever
shall confess with his mouth tlie Lord JesuSy and
believe in his hearty that God raised him from the
dead, shall he saved; as it is, Rom. x. 9, and that
Whosoever helieveth that Jesus is the Christy is
horn of God; the belief of that point is sufficient
for the salvation of any man whosoever he be, for-
asmuch as concemeth faith. And seeing he that
believeth not that Jesus is the Christ, whatsoever
he believe else, cannot be saved ; it followeth, that
there is no more required of the salvation of one
man, than another, in matter of faith.

9. About these points fdndamental, there is
little controversy amongst Christians, though

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 181

otherwise of different sects amongst themselves, part ii.
And therefore the controversies of religion, are . ^; .
altogether about points unnecessary to salvation ; That super.
whereof some are doctrines raised by human rati- not point* of the
ocination, from the points fundamental. As for ^^\ SSSuZ
example ; such doctrines as concern the manner
of the real presence, wherein are mingled tenets
of faith concerning the omnipotency and divinity
of Christ, with the teiiets of Aristotle and the
Peripatetics concerning substance and accidents,
species, hypostasis, and the subsistence and migra-
tion of accidents from place to place ; words some
of them without meaning, and nothing but the
canting of Grecian sophisters. And these doctrines
are condemned expressly. Col. ii. 8, where after
St. Paul had exhorted them to he rooted and huilded
in Christy he giveth them this further caveat : Be--
ware lest there he any man that spoil you through
philosophy and vain deceits^ through the tradi-
tions of men, according to the rudiments of the
world. And such are such doctrines, as are
raised out of such places of the Scriptures, as con-
cern not the foundation, by men's natural reason ;
as about the concatenation of causes, and the man-
ner of God's predestination ; which are also mingled
with philosophy: as if it were possible for men
that know not in what manner God seeth, heareth,
or speaketh, to know nevertheless the manner how
he intendeth, and predestinateth. A man therefore
ought not to examine by reason any point, or draw
any consequence out of Scripture by reason, con-
cerning the nature of God Almighty, of which
reason is not capable. And therefore St. Paul,
(Rom. xii. 3) giveth a good rule, That no man pre^

183 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART II. 9ume to understand above that whieh is meet to

. ^' . Mnderstandj hut that he understand according to

That tuper. sohricty : which they do not, who presume out of

Rtruetiotu are o'-l. i_^i» • ^ ^^» ^

not point, of ae ocripturc, by their own interpretation, to raise any
to^acSHtilS! doctrine to the understanding, concerning those
things which are incomprehensible. And this
whole controversy concerning the predestination
of God, and the free-will of man, is not peculiar to
Christian men. For we hlive huge volumes of this
subject^ under the name of fate and contingency ^
disputed between the Epicureans and the Stoics,
and consequently it is not matter of faith, but of
philosophy : and so are also all the questions con-
cerning any other point, but the foundation before
named ; and God receiveth a man, which part of
the question soever he holdeth. It was a contro-
versy in St. Paul's time, whether a Christian
Gentile might eat freely of any thing which the
Christian Jews did not ; and the Jew condemned
the Gentile that he did eat, to whom St. Paul saith,
(Rom. xiv. 3) : Let not him that eateth not^ judge
him that eateth ; for God hath received him.
And verse 6, in the question concerning the observ-
ing of holy days, wherein the Gentiles and Jews
differed, he saith unto them, He that observe th the
day, observeth it to the Lord ; and he that oh-
serveth not the day, observeth it not to the Lord.
And they who strive concerning such questions,
and divide themselves into sects, are not therefore
to be accounted zealous of the faith, their strife
being but carnal, which is confirmed by St. Paul
( 1 Cor. iii. 4) : When one saith, I am of Paul, and
another, I am of Appollos, are ye not carnal ?
For they are not questions of faith, but of wit,

DB CORPORB POLITICO, 183

wherein, carnally, men are inclined to seek the part.ii
mastery one of another. For nothing is truly a point . ^; .
of faith, but that Jesus is the Christ ; as St. Paul
testifieth, (1 Cor. ii. 2) : For I esteemed not the
knowledge of any thing amongst you, save Jesus
Christy and him crucified. And 1 Tim. vi. 20, 2 1 :
O TimotheuSy keep that which is committed unto
thee, and avoid profane and vain babblings, and
opposition of science falsely so called, which
while some profess, they have erred concerning
the faith. 2 Tim. ii. 16 : Shun profane and vain
babblings, Sfc. Verse 17, 18: Of which sort is
Hymen€Bus and Philetus, which as concerning the
truth, have erred, saying, that the resurrection is
past already. Whereby St. Paul showed, that the
ndsing of questions by human ratiocination, though
it be from the fundamental points themselves, is
not only not necessaay, but most dangerous to the
faith of a Christian. Out of all these places, I
draw only this conclusion in general, that neither
the points now in controversy amongst Christians
of diflFerent sects, or in any point that ever shall be
in controversy, excepting only those that are con-
tained in this article, Jesus is the Christ, are
necessary to salvation, as of faith ; though in mat-
ter of obedience, a man may be bound not to
oppose the same.

10. Although to the obtaining of salvation, there How fiiith
be required no more, as hath been already declared, ^ tTs^tion.
out of the Holy Scriptures, as matter of faith, but
the belief of those fundamental articles before set
forth ; nevertheless, there are required other things,
as matter of obedience. For, as it is not enough
in temporal kingdoms, to avoid the punishment

184 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. which kings may inflict, to acknowledge the right
^ ^' . and title of the king, without obedience also to
How faith his laws : so also it is not enough, to acknowledge
cur to ^^to. our Saviour Christ to be the king of heaven, in
which consisteth Christian faith, unless also we
endeavour to obey his laws, which are the laws
of the kingdom of heaven, in which consisteth
Christian obedience. And forasmuch as the laws
of the kingdom of heaven, are the laws of nature,
as hath been showed, Part I. chapter v., not only
faith, but also the observation of the law of nature,
(which is that for which a man is called just or
righteous, in that sense, in which justice is taken
not for the absence of guilt, but for the endeavour
and constant will to do that w^hich is just) not
only faith, but this justice, which also from the
effect thereof, is called repentance, and sometimes
works, is necessary to salvation. So that faith
and justice do both concur thereto ; and in the
several acceptation of this word (justification) are
properly said both of them to justify; and the
want of either of them is properly said to con-
demn. For not only he that resisteth a king
upon doubt of his title, but also he that doth it
upon the inordinateness of his passions, deserveth
punishment. And when faith and works are se-
parated, not only the faith is called dead without
works, but also works are called dead works
without faith. And therefore St. James, (chapter
ii. 17)5 saith, Even so the faith ^ if it have no
works, is dead in itself; and verse 26 : For ax
the body without the spirit is dead^ even so faith
without works is dead. And St. Paul, (Heb. vi. 1),
calleth works without faith, d^ad works ^ where he

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 185

saith. Not laying again the foundation of repent- part ii.
ancefrom dead works. And by these dead works, . ^; ^
is understood not the obedience and justice of the How feith
inward man, but the optis operatunij or external cur to sdvutio
action, proceeding from fear of punishment, or
from vain-glory, and desire to be honoured of men :
and these may be separated from faith, and con-
duce no way to a man's justification. And for that
cause, St. Paul, (Rom. iv.) excludeth the righteous-
ness of the law, from having part in the justifica-
tion of a sinner. For by the law of Moses, which
is applied to men's actions, and requireth the ab-
sence of guilt, all men living are liable to damna-
tion ; and therefore no man is justified by works,
but by faith only. But if works be taken for the
endeavour to do them, that is, if the will be taken
for the deed, or internal for external righteous-
ness, then do works contribute to salvation. And
then taketh place that of St. James, (chap. ii. 24) :
Ye see then^ how that of works a man is justified^
and not of faith only. And both of these are
joined to salvation, as in St. Mark i. 1 5 : Repent
and believe the gospel. And Luke xviii. 18-22,
when a certain ruler asked our Saviour, what he
ought to do to inherit eternal life, he propounded
to him the keeping of the commandments ; which
when the ruler said he had kept, he propounded to
him the faith. Sell all that thou hast^ and follow
me. And John iii. 36 : He that heUeveth in the
Son, hath everlasting life. And He that obeyeth
fiot the Son, shall not see life. Where he manifestly
joineth obedience and faith together. And Rom.
i. 1 7 : The just shall live by faith ; not every one,
but the just. For also the devils believe and trem-

I'iS^ >2: COl^^l^ KrkZWKXK

TjkXi r. ^. Bar ijiuxex ^:tl iisc^ ^ai£ jBSCkr ^BeaBiiig

^ , ^ _. isfll by pittcor. 2i:c L:titrib» ^ cv^ 9K die good

SB^tBft by G«:ii. I3ar ukris. ;a»f v^ iiar cae de«d^ be
VnCXL oaf la^sK io;^ :.: j^scfr. T>*f art uor parts in
tsit Kt «3C j«ci3«caQ:a ^ be iSrrirai'fcrd For
jaitk^ k «ud t.> rascfr. n^ic becaose k afaeolretli,
Mt because si OmcoEUEare^ ksn Jasc and settietli
uiL in aa cstase. cr eafiOifirT of ahatkai. wheiiso-
eT<T ike sbail aaxe a^izk- BcE &ith k said to jo^
tx^, tiiat b. to actsoH'e. Heeassir br it a just man b
aaso&Tcd o£. azMi izr^^ts^ \b^ oipB^t actioiis. And
thus are recoocikd true p^acies ctf St. Bud and St.
Jamcsw that /aifi omiy jm*tifirik^ and a jmb it aol
Jmsiijied by Jaiii omif ; and siioiwed bow £utb
and repentance mo^ ojociir to silvatMMi.

11. Tbese tnines cmsdeied, it viD ea^lr appear,

^ii^tbat lakder the sOTeiteten power of a Cliristian

ZaZ^^^^ commoQweairh. there is no danser ii damnation

firom simple obedience to human laws ; for in that

the sorereism alloweth ChristianitT. no man is

compelled to renoonce that £uth, which is enough

for his salvadoa. that is to saT, the fundamental

points. And for other points, seeing they are not

necessarr to salvation, if we conform our actions

to the laws, we do not only what we are allowed,

but also what we are commanded by the law of

nature, which is the moral law taufi:ht by our

Saviour himself. And it is part of that obedience

which must concur to our salvation.

Thi^uTiH,wui. 12. And though it be true, whatsoever a man

the c^iiMneiK^ i« doth against his conscience, is sin; yet the obe-

MD, mterprvteti. ^gjj^ y^ thcsc cascs, is neither sin, nor against

the conscience. For the conscience being nothing

J)B CORPORE POLITICO. 187

else but a man's settled judgment and opinion, j>artii,
when he hath once transferred his right of judging . ^ .
to another, that which shall be commanded, is no
less his judgment, than the judgment of that other.
So that in obedience to laws, a man doth still
' according to his own conscience, but not his pri-
vate conscience. And whatsoever is done contrary
to private conscience, is then a sin, when the laws
have left him to his own liberty, and never else.
And then whatsoever a man doth, not only believ-
ing it is ill done, but doubting whether it be ill or
not, is done ill, in case he may lawfully omit the
doing.

13. And as it hath been proved, that a man t**** "n men a

.... . . . ^ coiifintthenec«

must submit his opinions m matter of controversy aityofiabmittiii
to the authority of the commonwealth ; so also is tol^!hi!^
the same confessed by the practice of every one of »»***»"^-
them that otherwise deny it. For who is there
differing in opinion from another, and thinking
himself to be in the right, and the other in the
wrong, that would not think it reasonable, if he be
of the same opinion that the whole state alloweth,
that the other should submit his opinion also there-
unto; or that would not be content, if not that
one or a few men, yet all the divines of a whole
nation, or at least an assemblv of all those he
liketh, should have the power to determine all the
controversies of religion? or, who is there that
would not be content, to submit his opinions, either
to the pope, or to a general council, or to a pro-
vincial council, or to a presbytery of his own
nation ? And yet in all these cases he submitteth
himself to no greater than human authority. Nor
can a man be said to submit himself to Holy Scrip-

188 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. ture, that doth not submit himself to some or
. ^' . other for the interpretation thereof. Or, why
should there be any church government at all in-
stituted, if the Scripture itself could do the office of
a judge in controversies of faith ? But the truth
is apparent, by continual experience, that men
seek not only liberty of conscience, but of their
actions; nor that only, but a further liberty of
persuading others to their opinions ; nor that only,
for every man desireth, that the sovereign autho-
rity should admit no other opinions to be main-
tained, but such as he himself holdeth.
That chmtians 14. Thc difficulty therefore of obeying both God
•ndiacbargedorand mau in a Christian commonwealth is none : all
di^)b!^^*him, tte difficulty resteth in this point, whether he that
io that whidi Y^^^ received the faith of Christ, having before

cfmcemeth the ^ ' o

faith nweasary subjcctcd liimsclf to thc authorfty of an infidel, be
not resistiDg. discharged of his obedience thereby, or not, in
matters of religion. In which case it seemeth
reasonable to think, that since all covenants of
obedience are entered into for the preservation of
a man's life, if a man be content without resistance
to lay down his life, rather than obey the com-
mands of an infidel, in so hard a case he hath suffi-
ciently discharged himself thereof. For no covenant
bindeth further than to endeavour ; and if a man
cannot assure himself to perform a just duty, when
thereby he is assured of present death, much less
can it be expected that a man should perform that,
for which he believeth in his heart he shall be
damned eternally. And thus much concerning the
scruple of conscience, that may arise concerning
obedience to human laws, in them that interpret
the law of God to themselves. It remaineth, to

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 189

remove the same scrapie from tliem, that submit partii.
their controversies to others not ordained there- . ^' .
unto by the sovereign authority. And this I refer
to the chapter following.

CHAPTER VIL

1. The question propounded, who are the magistrates in the
kingdom of Christ. 2. The question exemplified, in the con-
troversies between Moses and Aaron, and between Moses and
Corah. 3. Amongst the Jews, the ])ower temporal and spiri-
tual in the same hand. 4. Parallel of the twelve princes of
Israel, and the twelve apostles. 5. Parallel of seventy elders,
and seventy disciples. 6. The hierarchy of the church in our
SaviourV time, consisted in the twelve, and in the seventy.

7. Why Christ ordained no priests for sacrifices, as Moses did.

8. The hierarchy of the church in the apostles' time, apostles,
bishops, and priests. 9. The preaching of the gospel was not
commanding, but persuading. 10. Excommunication. Sove-
reigns immediate rulers ecclesiastical under Christ. 1 1 . That
no man hath any just pretence of religion against obedience to
commonwealth. God speaketh to man by his vicegerents.

1 . In the former chapter have been removed those The quemtion
difficulties opposing our obedience to human autho- wbHre Sie
rity, which arise from misunderstanding of our J^^*^^*
Saviour's title and laws: in the former whereof, **«™ °' ^*»"'*-
namely, his title, consisteth our faith ; and in the
latter, our justice. Now they who differ not
amongst themselves concerning his title and laws,
may nevertheless have different opinions concern-
ing his magistrates, and the authority he hath
given them. And this is the cause, why many
Christians have denied obedience to their princes,
pretending that our Saviour Christ hath not given
this magistracy to them, but to others. As for
example: some say, to the pope universally ; some,

190 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. to a synod aristocratical ; some^ to a synod demo-
. ^; . cratical in every several commonwealth ; and the
magistrates of Christ being they by whom he
speaketh, the question is, whether he speak nnto
ns by the pope, or by convocations of bishops and
ministers, or by them that have the sovereign
power in every commonwealth.
Theqnoition 2. This controvcrsy was the cause of those two
^T^t^T^^es mutinies, that happened against Moses in the wil-
i^I^^ demess. The first by Aaron and his sister Miriam,
i^c^**^ who took upon them to censure Moses, for marry-
ing an Ethiopian woman. And the state of the
question between them and Moses, they set forth
(Numb. xii. 2) in these words : What hath the Lord
spoken hut only by Moses ? hath he not spoken
also by us ? And the Lord heard this^ &c., and
punished the same in Miriam, forgiving Aaron
upon his repentance. And this is the case of all
them that set up the priesthood against the sove-
reignty. The other was of Corah, Dathan, and
Abiram, who with two hundred and fifty captains
gatliered themselves together against Moses, and
against Aaron. The state of their controversy was
this, whether God were not with the multitude, as
well as with Moses, and every man as holy as he.
For (Numb. xvi. 3) thus they say, You take too
much upon you, seeing all the congregation is
holy ; every one of them^ and the Lord is amongst
them : wherefore then lift ye yourselves above the
congregation of the Lord ? And this is the case
of them that set up their private consciences, and
unite themselves to take the government of religion
out of the hands of him or them, that have the
sovereign power of the commonwealth : which how

DE GORPORE POLITICO. 191

well it pleaseth God, may appear by the hideous part ii.
punishment of Corah and his accomplices. ._ ^; ^

3. In the government therefore of Moses there Amongst

• •11 ^^ Jews, the

was no power, neither civil, nor spiritual, that was power tempow
not derived from him. Nor in the state of Israel J^e ^hand
under kings, was there any earthly power, by which
those kings were compellable to any thing, or any
subject allowed to resist them in any case whatso-
ever. For though the prophets by extraordinary
calling, did often admonish and threaten them, yet
they had no authority over them. And therefore
amongst the Jews, the power spiritual and tem-
poral, was alwa3rs in the same hand.

4. Our Saviour Christ, as he was the rightful p»^^«^«/^«

,^ twelT* princes

king of the Jews in particular, as well as king of ofisrwiandt
the kingdom of Heaven, in the ordaining of magis- ^ ^*^
trates, received that form of policy which was used
by Moses. According to the number of the children
of Jacob, Moses took unto him by the appointment
of God (Numb. i. 4) twelve men, every one of the
chief of their tribe, which were to assist him in the
muster of Israel. And these twelve, verse 44, are
called the princes of Israel, twelve men, every one
for the house of tJieir fathers ; which are said
also (Numb. vii. 2), to he heads over the houses of
their fathers, and princes of the tribes, and over
tliem that were numbered. And these were every
one equal amongst themselves. In like manner
our Saviour took unto him twelve apostles, to
be next unto him in authority, of whom he saith
(Matth^ xix. 28), When the Son of Man shall sit
in the throne of his majesty, ye which follow me
in the regeneration, shall sit also upon twelve
thrones, and judge the twelve tribes of Israel.

192 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. And concerning the equality of the twelve apostles
^ \' . amongst themselves^ our Saviour saith (Matth.
XX. 25), Ye know that the Lord^ of the Gentilen
have domination over them^ Sfc. Verse 26 : But it
shall not be so amongst you ; hut wliosoever will
be greatest ainong you^ let him be your servant.
And Matth. xxiii. 1 1 : He that is greatest among
youy let him be your servant. And a little before,
verse 8, Be not called Rabbi; for one is your
doctor, Christ, and all ye are brethren. And
Acts i. in choosing of Matthias to be an apostle,
though St. Peter used the part of a prolocutor^ yet
did no man take upon him the authority of election,
but referred the same to lot
parallel of the 5. Affaiu, Moscs had the command of God,
BeTent7diiicipiM.JNumb. XI. 16 ". irather to me seventy men of the
elders of Israel, whom thou knowest that they are
the elders of the people, and governors over them,
and bring them unto the tabernacle, 8fc. And
Moses, verse 24, did accordingly. And these were
chosen to help Moses in bearing the burthen of the
government, as appeareth, verse 17 of the same
chapter. And as the twelve princes of the tribes
were according to the number of Jacob's children ;
so were the seventy elders according to the number
of the persons that went down with Jacob into
Egypt. In like manner our Saviour in his kingdom
of Heaven, the church, out of the whole number
of those that believed in him, ordained seventy
persons, which peculiarly were called the seventy
disciples, to whom he gave power to preach the
Gospel and baptize.
Tiie iiierarchy g, Jn Qur Savlour's timc therefore, the hierarchy

of the chiirch

in our saTiour'B of thc church cousistcd, bcsidcs himself that was the

k

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 193

head, of twelve apostles, who were equal amongst part ii.

themselves, but ordained over others, as were the , l^ ,

twelve heads of the tribes, and seventy disciples, uine,con»irtedi
who had every one of them power to baptize and .Vthe se^i "
teach, and help to govern the whole flock.

7. And whereas in the commonwealth instituted whyChmtor
by Moses, there was not only a high-priest for the for «icrifices, i
present, but also a succession and order of priests ; ^^""^ ^*^'

it may be demanded, why our Saviour Christ did not
ordain the like ? To which may be answered, that
the high-priesthood, forasmuch as concemeth the
authority thereof, was in the person of Christ, as he
was Christ, that is king. So also was it in Moses,
A aron having the ministerial part only. For notwith-
standing that Aaron was the high-priest, yet the con-
secration of him belonged (Exod. xxix. 1) to Moses.
All the utensils of sacrifice, and other holy things,
were ordered by Moses ; and in sum, the whole
Levitical law was delivered by God by the hand of
Moses, who was to Aaron a God, and Aaron to him
a mouth. And for the ministerial part, there could
no high-priest be ordained but himself; for seeing
our Saviour was himself the sacrifice, who bat him-
self could oflfer him up ? And for the celebration of
that sacrifice for ever after, our Saviour annexed
the priesthood to those whom he had appointed to
govern in the church.

8. After the ascension of our Saviour, the apos- Theiiiewrciiy
ties dispersed themselves for the spreading of the apo^u^' tilTe,
Gospel, and continually as they converted any num- a^pri«^^**^
ber of men, in any city or region, to the faith, they

chose out such as they thought fittest, to direct
them in matter of conversation and life, according
to Christ's law, and to explicate unto them, that

VOL. IV. o

194 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART II. mystery of Christ come in the flesh, that is to say, to
. ^; . unfold imto them at large the office of the Messiah.
rheiuerarchyof And of thosc cldcrs, some were subordinate to
pouUestimeAc. Others, accordmg as the apostles, who ordamed
them, thought meet. So St. Paul gave power unto
Titus, to ordain elders in Crete, and to redress
things that were amiss. So that Titus was both
an elder, and ordained elders (Tit. i. 5) : For this
cause I left thee in Crete ^ that thou shouldest con^
tintie to redress the things that remain, and ordain
elders in every city; where the word is icaraarriirpc,
that is constitute ; whereby it appeareth, that in
the apostles' times, one elder had authority over
another, to ordain and rule them. For 1 Tim.
V. 19, Timothy an elder, is made judge of accu-
sations against other elders. And Acts xiv. 23,
the disciples are said to ordain elders, for all the
congregations of the cities they had preached in.
And though the word there be x^porovnaavrec, yet
it signifieth not election by holding up of hands, but
simply and absolutely ordination. For the ordi-
nary choosing of magistrates amongst the Grecians,
which were all either popularly governed, or else
by oligarchy^ being performed by holding up of
hands, made that word be taken simply, for an
election or ordination, howsoever made. And thus
in the primitive church, the hierarchy of the church,
was apostles, elders that governed other elders,
and elders that ruled not, but their office was to
preach, to administer the sacraments, to oflFer up
prayers and thanksgiving in the name of the people.
But at that time there appeared no distinction be-
tween the names of bishop and elder. But imme-
diately after the apostles' time, the word bishop was

^,

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 195

taken to signify such an elder as had the govern- part ii.
ment of elders, and other elders were called by the _ \' _^
name of priests, which signifieth the same that
elder doth. And thus the government of bishops
hath a divine pattern in the twelve rulers, and
seventy elders of Israel, in the twelve apostles and
seventy disciples of our Saviour, in the ruling elders,
and not ruling elders, in the time of the apostles.

9. And thus much of the magistrates over The preaching
Christ's flock in the primitive church. For the notc^^^dto'
office of a minister, or ministress, was to be subject ^"* i«""»^*^
to the flock, and to serve them in those things
which appertain to their temporal business. The
next thing to be considered is the authority which
our Saviour gave them, either over those whom
they had converted, or those whom they were about
to convert. And for these latter, which as yet
were without the church, the authority which our
Saviour gave to his apostles was no more but this,
to preach unto them that Jesus was the Christ, and
to explicate the same in all points, that concern
the kingdom of heaven, and to persuade men to
embrace our Saviour's doctrine, but by no means
to compel any man to be subject to them : for see-
ing the laws of the kingdom of heaven, as hath
been showed. Part I, chap. v. sect. 10, are dictated
to the conscience only, which is not subject to com-
pulsion and constraint, it was not congruent to the
style of the King of Heaven to constrain men to sub-
mit their actions to him, but to advise them only ;
nor for him that professeth the sum of his law to
be love, to extort any duty from us with fear of
temporal punishment. And therefore as the mighty

men in the world, that hold others in subjection by

o2

196 D£ CORPORE POLITICO.

PA RT 1 1, force, are called in Scripture by the name of hunters ;
. ^- so our Saviour calleth those whom he appointed to
The preaching draw thc worfd unto him, by subduing their aflFec-
^uo^!^dTi^ tions,^*A^r^. And therefore he saith to Peter and
but F«u«ding. An^jrew, (Matth. iv, 19) : Follow me, and I will
make ye fishers of men. And Luke x. 3 : Belwld,
saith Christ, / send ye forth as lambs amongst
wolves. And it were to no end to give them the
right of compelling, without strengthening the same
with greater power than of lambs amongst wolves.
Moreover, Matth. x, where our Saviour giveth a
commission to his apostles, to go forth and convert
the nations to the faith, he giveth them no autho-
rity of coercion and punishment, but only saith,
(verse 14, 15) Whosoever shall not receive you, nor
hear your words, when ye depart out of that house,
or that city, shake off the dust of your feet. It
shall be easier for the land of Sodom and Go-
morrah in the day of judgment, than for that city.
Whereby it is manifest, that all that the apostles
could do by their authority, was no more than to
renounce communion with them, and leave their
punishment to God Almighty, in the day of judg-
ment. Likewise the comparisons of the kingdom
of heaven to the seed, Matth. xiii. 3, and to the
leaven, Matth. xiii. 33, doth intimate unto us that
the increase thereof ought to proceed from internal
operation of God's word preached, and not from
any law or compulsion of them that preach it.
Moreover our Saviour himself saith (John xviii. 36),
That his kingdom is not of this world; and con-
sequently his magistrates derive not from him any
authority of punishing men in this world. And
therefore also, Matth. xxvi. 52, after St. Peter had

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 197

drawn his sword in his defence, our Saviour saith, part ii.
Put up thy sword into his place. For all that 7-
tahe tlie sword^ shall perish by the sword. And,
verse 54, How then shall the Scriptures he fuU
filled^ which say^ that it must he so? showing
out of the Scriptures, that the kingdom of Christ
was not to be defended by the sword.

10. But concerning the authority of the apostles ExcmnTnunica^

-, ,, , Hon. SovcTciRi

or bishops over those who were already converted immediate mie
and within the church, there be that think it greater Sli^^chSu** "
than over them without. For some have said,
(Bellarmin. Lib. de Rom. Pont. cap. 29,) Though
the law of Christ deprive no prince of his domi-
nion, and Paul did rightly appeal unto Casar,
whilst kings were infidels and out of the church ;
yet when they became Christians, and of their
own accord underwent the laws of the gospel,
presently om sheep to a shepherd, and as members
to the head, they became subject to the prelate of
the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Which, whether it
be true or not, is to be considered by that light
which we have from the Holy Scripture, concern-
ing the power of our Saviour and his apostles, over
such as they had converted. But our Saviour, as
he imitated the commonwealth of the Jews in his
magistrates, the twelve and the seventy ; so did he
also in the censure of the church, which was ex-
communication ; but amongst the Jews, the church
did put the excommunicated persons from the con-
gregation, which they might do by their power
temporal ; but our Saviour and his apostles, who
took upon them no such power, could not forbid
the excommunicated person to enter into any place
and congregation, into which he was permitted to

198 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART II. ^nter, by the prince, or sovereign of the place.
, 7' . For that had been to deprive the sovereign of his
Excommuiiica. RUthority. And therefore the excommunication of
^e<ulte mi^ a person subject to an earthly power, was but a
^^^J!^*^ declaration of the church, which did excommuni-
cate, that the person so excommunicated was to
be reputed still as an infidel, but not to be driven
by their authority, out of any company, he might
otherwise lawfully come into. And this is it our
Saviour saith (Matth. xviii. 17) : If he refuse to
hear the churchy let him he unto thee as an heathen
man and a publican. So that the whole effect of
excommunicating a Christian prince, is no more
than he or they that so excommunicate him depart
and banish themselves out of his dominion. Nor
can they thereupon discharge any of his subjects
of their obedience to him ; for that were to deprive
him of his dominion ; which they may not do, for
being out of the church. It is confessed by them
that make this objection, and proved in the former
section, that our Saviour gave no authority to his
apostles to be judges over them. And therefore
in no case can the sovereign power of a common-
wealth be subject to any authority ecclesiastical,
besides that of Christ himself. And though he be
informed concerning the kingdom of heaven, and
subject himself thereto at the persuasions of per-
sons ecclesiastical, yet is he not thereby subject to
their government and rule. For if it were by their
authority he took that yoke upon him, and not by
their persuasion, then by the same authority he
might cast it off. But this is unlawful. For if all
the churches in the world should renounce the
Christian faith, yet is not this sufficient authority

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 199

for any of the members to do the same. It is part ii.
manifest therefore, that they who have sovereign . ^- .
power, are immediate rulers of the church under
Christ, and all other but subordinate to them. If
that were not, but kings should command one thing
upon pain of death, and priests another, upon pain
of damnation, it would be impossible that peace
and religion should stand together.

1 1. And therefore there is no lust cause for any That no man

, haUi any just

man to withdraw his obedience from the sovereign pretence of w.
state, upon pretence that Christ hath ordained any o^^^^^ul
state ecclesiastical above it. And though kings ^"^[^^
take not upon .them the ministerial priesthood, yet «<> man by hu

X ■' i' ricegerents.

are they not so merely laic, as not to have sacer-
dotal jurisdiction. To conclude this chapter, since
God speaketh not in these days to any man by his
private interpretation of the Scriptures, nor by the
interpretation of any power above, or not depend-
ing on the sovereign power of every commonwealth,
it remaineth, that he speaketh by his vice-gods, or
lieutenants here on earth, that is to say, by sove-
reign kings, or such as have sovereign authority as
well as they.

200 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

CHAPTER VIII.

1. The things that dispo9e to rebellion, discontent, pretence, and
hope of success. 2. Discontent that disposeth to sedition,
consisteth partly in fear of want, or punishment : 3. Partly in
ambition. 4. Six heads of pretences to rebellion. 5. The
first of them, that men ought to do nothing against conscience,
confuted. 6. The second, that sovereigns are subject to their
own laws, confuted. 7. The third, that the sovereignty b
divisible, confuted. 8. The fourth, that subjects have a pro-
priety distinct from the dominion of the sovereign, confuted.
9. The fifth, that the people is a person distinct from the
sovereign, confuted. 10. The sixth, that tyrannicide is law-
ful, confuted. 1 1 . Four heads of hope of success in rebellion.
12. Two things necessary to an author of rebellion, much elo-
quence, and little wisdom. 13. That the authors of rebellion
necessarily are to be men of little wisdom. H. That the
same are necessarily eloquent. 15. In what manner they coo-
cur to their common effects.

PART 11. 1. Hitherto of the causes why, and the manner

^ — ^ — ' how, men have made commonwealth. In this

The !hiiiK« that chaptcT I shall show briefly by what causes, and

di)>poMr to rebel- , •*• .

lion. I'iwontwit, in what manner, they be again destroyed; not
hopeof.ucc««i. meaning to say anything concerning the dissolu-
tion of a commonwealth, from foreign invasions,
which is as it were the violent death thereof. I
shall speak only of sedition, which is also the death
of the commonwealth, but like to that which hap-
peneth to a man from sickness and distemper. To
dispose men to sedition, three things concur. The
first is discontent ; for as long as a man thinketh
himself well, and that the present government
standeth not in his way to hinder his proceeding
from well to better, it is impossible for him to
desire the change thereof. The second is pretence
of right ; for though a man be discontent, yet if in

DE CORFORE POLITICO. 201

liis own opinion there be no just cause of stirring part ii.
against, or resisting the government established, . ^;
nor any pretence to justify his resistance, and to
procure aid, he will never show it. The third is
hope of success ; for it were madness to attempt
without hope, when to fail, is to die the death of a
traitor. Without these three, discontent, pretence,
and hope, there can be no rebellion: and when
the same are all together, there wanteth nothing
thereto, but a man of credit to set up the standard,
and to blow the trumpet.

2. And as for discontent, it is of two sorts : for Discontent
it consisteth either in bodily pain present or ex- to'I^wiT<^
pected, or else in trouble of the mind; which is^^^J^^J^^
the general division of pleasure and pain, Human punishmem:
Nature, chap. vii. sect. 9. The presence of bodily
pain disposeth not to sedition ; the fear of it doth.
As for example ; when a great multitude, or heap
of people, have concurred to a crime worthy of
death, they join together, and take arms to defend
themselves for fear thereof. So also the fear of
want, or in present want, the fear of arrests and
imprisonment dispose to sedition. And therefore
great exactions, though the right thereof be acknow-
ledged, have caused great seditions. As in the
time of Henry VII. the seditions of the Cornish
men, that refused to pay a subsidy, and, under the
conduct of the Lord Audley, gave the King battle
upon Blackheath ; and that of the northern people,
who in the same king's time, for demanding a sub-
sidy granted in parliament, murdered the Earl of
Northumberland in his house.

3. Thirdly, the other sort of discontent, which
troubleth the mind of them who otherwise live at

ao2

DB CORPORB POLITICO.

PART II.

8.
^ 1 '

I'artlr

in ambitioiL

ease, without fear of want, or danger of violence,
ariseth only from a sense of their want of that
power, and that honour and testimony thereof,
which they think is due unto them. For all joy
and grief of mind consisting (as hath been said.
Human Nature^ chap. ix. sect. 21) in a contention
for precedence to them with whom they compare
themselves ; such men must needs take it ill, and
be grieved with the state, as find themselves post-
posed to those in honour, whom they think they
excel in virtue and ability to govern. And this is
it for which they think themselves regarded but as
slaves. Now seeing freedom cannot stand together
with subjection, liberty in a commonwealth is
nothing but government and rule, which because
it cannot be divided, men must expect in common;
and that can be no where but in the popular state,
or democracy. And Aristotle saith well, (lib. vi.
cap. 2 of his Politics), The ground or intention of
a democracy, is liberty . Which he confirmeth in
these words : For men ordinarily say this, that no
man can partake of liberty, but only in a popular
com^nonwealth. Whosoever therefore in a monar-
chical estate, where the sovereign power is abso-
lutely in one man, claimeth liberty, daimeth (if
the hardest construction should be made thereof)
either to have the sovereignty in his turn, or to be
colleague with him that hath it, or to have the
monarchy changed into a democracy. But if the
same be construed, with pardon of that tuiskilful
expression, according to the intention of him that
claimeth, then doth he thereby claim no more but
this, that the sovereign should take notice of his
ability and deserving, and put him into employment

^

DE CORFORE POLITICO. 203

and place of subordinate government, rather than part ii,
others that deserve less. And as one claimeth, so ._ ^' ^
doth another^ every man esteeming his own desert
greatest. Amongst all those that pretend to, or
are ambitious of such honour, a few only can be
served, unless it be in a democracy ; the rest there-
fore must be discontent. And so much of the first
thing that disposeth to rebellion, namely, discon-
tent, consisting in fear and ambition.

4. The second thing that disposeth to rebellion, ^)*^5^
is pretence of right. And that is when men have ^ rebellion.
an opinion, or pretend to have an opinion, that in
certain cases they may lawfully resist him or them
that have the sovereign power, or deprive him or
them of the means to execute the same. Of which
pretences, there be six special cases. One is, when
the command is against their conscience, and they
believe it is unlawful for a subject at the command
of the sovereign power to do any action, which he
thinketh in his own conscience not lawful for him
to do, or to omit any action, which he thinketh not
lawful for him to omit. Another is, when the
command is against the laws, and they think the
sovereign power in such sort obliged to his own
laws, as the subject is ; and that when he per-
formeth not his duty, they may resist his power.
A third is, when thev receive commands from some
man or men, and a supersedeas to the same from
others, and think the authority is equal, as if the
sovereign power were divided. A fourth is, when
they are commanded to contribute their persons
or money to the public service, and think they
have a propriety in the same distinct from the
dominion of the sovereign power ; and that there-

204

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II.

8.

The first of
them, thnt
meu ought to
do nothing
against cou-

fore they are not bound to contribute their goods
and persons^ no more than every man shall of him-
self think fit. A fifth, when the commands seem
hurtful to the people ; and they think, every one
of them, that the opinion and sense of the people,
is the same with the opinion of himself, and those
that consent with him ; calling by the name of
people, any multitude of his own faction. The
sixth is, when the commands are grievous; and
they account him that commandeth grievous things
a tyrant ; and tyrannicide, that is, the killing of a
tyrant, not only lawful, but also laudable.

5. All these opinions are maintained in the
books of the dogmatics, and divers of them taught
in public chairs, and nevertheless are most incom-

»cienve,confate<L - •! i -.i j ^ j ^

patible with peace and government, and contra-
dictory to the necessary and demonstrable rules of
the same. And for the first, namely, that a man
may lawfully do or omit any thing ag«dnst his con-
science, and from whence arise all seditions con-
cerning religion and ecclesiastical government, it
hath been plainly declared in the two last chapters,
that such opinion is erroneous. For those two
chapters have been wholly spent, to prove, that
Christian religion not only forbiddeth not, but also
commandeth, that in every commonwealth, every
subject should in all things to the uttermost of his
power obey the commands of him or them that is
the sovereign thereof, and that a man in so obey-
ing, doth according to his conscience and judg-
ment, as having deposited his judgment in all
controversies in the hands of the sovereign power ;
and that this error proceedeth from the ignorance
of what and by whom God Almighty speaketh.

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 205

6, As for the second opinion, which is this, that part ii.
the sovereign is in such sort obliged to his own . ^' .
laws, as the subject is ; the contrary thereof hath The lecond.
been showed, Part II. chapter i. sections 7-12, by„ig,^^rob-
which it appeareth, that the sovereign power is not ^^^.^^^
to be resisted ; that it carrieth the sword both of
war and justice ; that it hath the right of deciding
all controversies, both judicial and deliberative ; that
it hath the making of all the laws civil ; that it ap-
pointeth magistrates and public ministers, and that
it implieth an universal impunity. How then can
he or they be said to be subject to the laws which
they may abrogate at their pleasure, or break with-
out fear of punishment ? And this error seemeth to
proceed from this, that men ordinarily understand
not aright, what is meant by this word law, con-
founding law and covenant, as if they signify the
same thing. But law implieth a command ; cove-
nant is but a promise. And not every command is
a law, but only {Human Nature, chap. xiii. sect. 6)
when the command is the reason we have of doing
the action commanded. And then only is the reason
of our actions in the command, when the omitting
is therefore hurtful, because the action was com-
manded, not because it was hurtful of itself ; and
doing contrary to a command, were not at all hurt-
ful, if there were not a right in him that com-
mandeth to punish him that so doth. He or they
that have all punishments in their own disposing,
cannot be so commanded, as to receive hurt for
disobeying, and consequently no command can be
a law unto them. It is an error therefore to think,
that the power w^hich is virtually the whole power
of the commonwealth, and which in whomsoever it

206 DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. resideth, is usually called supreme or soverei^,

- *• _^ can be subject to any law but that of God Almighty.

Tiie third, 7. The third opinion, that the sovereign power

nigniy isdifi. ffioy be dwidedy is no less an error than the former,

■bi0, woftitod. jyj ^^^Yx been proved, Part IL chapter i. sect. 15.

And if there were a commonwealth, wherein the
rights of sovereignty were divided, we must confess
with Bodin, Lib. II. chap. i. De Republican that
they are not rightly to be called commonwealths, but
the corruption of commonwealths. For if one part
should have power to make the laws for all, they
would by their laws at their pleasure, forbid others,
to make peace or war, to levy taxes, or to yield
fealty and homage without their leave ; and they
that had the right to make peace and war, and
command the militia^ would forbid the making of
other laws, than what themselves liked. And though
monarchies stand long, wherein the right of sove-
reignty hath seemed so divided, because monarchy
of itself is a durable kind of government, yet mo-
narchs have been thereby divers times thrust out of
their possession. But the truth is, that the right
of sovereignty is such, as he or they that have it,
cannot, though they would, give away any part
thereof, and retain the rest. As for example ; if
we should suppose the people of Rome to have had
the absolute sovereignty of the Roman state, and
to have chosen them a council by the name of the
senate, and that to this senate they had given the
supreme power of making laws, reserving never-
theless to themselves, in direct and express terms,
the whole right and title of the sovereignty ; which
may easily happen amongst them that see not the
inseparableconnexion between the sovereign power.

DE CORPORK POLITICO. 207

and the power of making laws : I say, this grant part ii.
of the people to the senate is of no eflfect, and the . ^-
power of making laws is in the people still. For the
senate understanding it to be the will and intention
of the people, to retain the sovereignty, ought not
to take that for granted, which was contradictory
thereto, and passed by error. For (Human Nature^
chap. XIII. sect. 9) in contradictory promises, that
which is directly promised, is preferred before that
which is opposite thereunto by consequence ; be-
cause the consequence of a thing is not always
obscured, as is the thing itself. The error con-
cerning mixed government hath proceeded from
want of understanding of what is meant by this
word body politic^ and how it signifieth not the
concord, but the union of many men. And though
in the chapters of subordinate corporations, a cor-
poration being declared to be one person in law,
yet the same hath not been taken notice of in the
body of a commonwealth or city, nor have any of
those innumerable writers of politics, observed any
such union.

8. The fourth ophiion, to wit, that subjects have "n*© fourth,
their meuniy tuuniy and suum, m property, not only have a pro-
by virtue of the sovereign power over them all, from^tue'do"^-
distinct from one another, but also against thej^^^'*^^^
sovereign himself, by which they would pretend to
contribute nothing to the public, but what they
please, hath been already confuted, by proving the
absoluteness of the sovereignty, and more particu-
larly, Part II. chapter v. sect. 2 ; and ariseth from
this, that they understand not ordinarily that be-
fore the institution of sovereign power, meum and
tuum, implied no propriety, but a community,

208 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. where every man had right to every thing, and
. ^' . was in state of war with every man.
The fifth, uiat 9. The fifth opinion, That the people is a distinct
jK-r^authirt body from him or them that have tlie sovereignty
Jri^^^^tod. ^^ them, is an error already confuted, Part II.
chap. II. sect 1 1, where it is showed, that when men
say, the people rebellethy it is to be understood of
those particular persons only, and not of the whole
nation. And when the people claimeth any thing
otherwise than by the voice of the sovereign power,
it is not the claim of the people, but only of those
particular men, that claim in their own persons ;
and this error ariseth from the equivocation of the
word people.
The Mxth, that 10. Lastly, for the opinion, //ifl/ tyrannicide is
hwfui. couftiied. lawful J meanmg by a tyrant any man m whom re-
sideth the right of sovereignty, is no less false and
pernicious to human society, than frequent in the
writings of those moral philosophers, Seneca and
others, so greatly esteemed amongst us. For when
a man hath the right of sovereignty, he cannot
justly be punished, as hath been often showed
already, and therefore much less deposed, or put to
death. And howsoever he might deserve punish-
ment, yet punishment is unjust without judgment
preceding, and judgment unjust without power of
judicature, which a subject hath not over a so-
vereign. But this doctrine proceedeth from the
Schools of Greece, and from those that writ in the
Roman state, in which not only the name of a tyrant,
but of a king, was hateful.
Four heads 1 1 . Bcsidcs discontcnty to the disposing of a man

ceM to wwiion. to rebellion, and pretence, there is required, in the
third place, hope of success^ which consisteth in

^-

D£ CORPORE POLITICO. 209

four points : i. That the discontented have mutual • part ii.
intelligence ; ii. That they have sufficient number ; ^ ^' .
III. That they have arms ; iv. That they agree
upon a head. For these four must concur to the
making of one body of rebellion, in which in-
telligence is the life, number the limbs, arms the
strength, and a head the unity, by which they are
directed to one and the same action.

12. The authors of rebellion, that is, the menTwothmgi
that breed these dispositions to rebel in others, of ^HJISIS^^fre.
necessity must have in them these three qualities : d^^^°^d
I. To be discontented themselves ; ii. To be men of ^^^ '^o"*-
mean judgment and capacity ; and, iii. To be elo-
quent men, or good orators. And as for their
discontent, from whence it may proceed, hath been
already declared. And for the second and third, I

am to show now, first, how they may stand together;
for it seemeth a contradiction, to place small judg-
ment and great eloquence, or, as they call it, pow-
erful speaking, in the same man : and then in what
manner they concur, to dispose other men to sedition.

13. It was noted by Sallust, that in Catiline, who Thatowau.
was author of the greatest sedition that ever was uon'liL^ariiy,
in Rome, there was Eloquentice satis, sapientiie ^uSJ'JdSi^.
parum; eloquence st{fficienty but little wisdom.

And perhaps this was said of Catiline, as he was
Catiline : but it was true of him as an author of
sedition. For the conjunction of these two quali-
ties made him not Catiline, but seditious. And
that it may be understood, how want of wisdom^
and store of eloquence, may stand together, we are
to consider, what it is we call wisdom, and what
eloquence. And therefore I shall here again re-
member some things, that have been said already,

VOL. IV. p

210 DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. • Human Nature y chap. v. vi . It is manifest that wis-

. ^' . dom consisteth in knowledge. Now of knowledge

Thai the au. thcrc aTC two kinds ; whereof the one is the remem-

thon of rebel- % i^i^i* i •-ii

lion neoenarflj, brancc 01 such thmgs, as we have conceived by our
^nSe^^^iS^ senses, and of the order in which they follow one
another. And this knowledge is called experience ;
and the wisdom that proceedeth from it, is that
ability to conjecture by the present, of what is past,
and to come, which men call prudence. This being
so, it is manifest presently, that the author of sedi-
tion, whosoever he be, must not be prudent. For
if he consider and take his experiences aright, con-
cerning the success which they have had, who have
been the movers and authors of sedition, either in
this or any other state, he shall find, that for one
man that hath thereby advanced himself to honour,
twenty have come to a reproachful end. The other
kind of knowledge, is the remembrance of the names
or appellations of things, and how every thing is
called, which is, in matters of common conversation,
a remembrance of pacts and covenants of men made
amongst themselves, concerning how to be under-
stood of one another. And this kind of knowledge
is generally called science, and the conclusions
thereof truth. But when men remember not how
things are named, by general agreement, but either
mistake and misname things, or name them aright
by chance, they are not said to have science, but
opinion, and the conclusions thence proceeding,
are uncertain, and for the most part erroneous.
Now that science in particular, from which proceed
the true and evident conclusions of what is right
and wrong, and what is good and hurtful to tlie
being, and well-being of mankind, the Latins call

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 211

sapientitty and we by the general name of wisdom, part ii.
For generally, not he that hath skill in geometry, . ^' .
or any other science speculative, but only he that
understandeth what conduceth to the good and
government of the people, is called a wise man.
Now that no author of sedition can be wise in this
acceptation of the word, is sufficiently proved, in
that it hath been already demonstrated, that no
pretence of sedition can be right or just. And
therefore the authors of sedition must be ignorant
of the right of state, that is to say, unwise. It
remaineth therefore, that they be such, as name
things, not according to their true and generally
agreed upon names, but call right arid wrong, good
and bad, according to their passions, or according
to the authorities of such as they admire, as Aris-
totle, Cicero, Seneca, and others of like authority,
who have given the names of right and wrong, as
their passions have dictated ; or have followed the
authority of other men, as we do theirs. It is re-
quired therefore in an author of sedition, that he
think right, that which is wrong ; and profitable,
that which is pernicious ; and consequently that
there be in him sapienti€B parum^ little wisdom.

14. Eloquence is nothing else but the power of That the same
winning belief of what we say. And to that end ^ueut. ^
we must have aid from the passions of the hearer.
Now to demonstration and teaching of the truth,
there are required long deductions, and great at-
tention, which is unpleasant to the hearer. There-
fore they which seek not truth, but belief, must
take another way, and not only derive what they
would have to be believed, from somewhat believed
already, but also, by aggravations and extenuations,

P2

212 DB CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. make good and bad, right and wrong, appear great
^ ^; , or less, according as shall serve their turns. And
such is the power of eloquence, as many times a
man is made to believe thereby, that he sensibly
feeleth smart and damage, when he feeleth none,
and to enter into rage and indignation, without any
other cause, than what is in the words and passion
of the speaker. This considered, together with the
business that he hath to do, who is the author of
rebellion, namely, to make men believe that their
rebellion is just, their discontents grounded upon
great injuries, and their hopes great ; there needeth
no more to prove, there can be no author of rebel-
lion, that is not an eloquent and powerful speaker,
and withal, as hath been said before, a man of little
wisdom. For the faculty of speaking powerfully,
consisteth in a habit gotten of putting together
passionate words, and applying them to the present
passions of the hearer.
In what man. 15. Sccing thcu eloqucncc and want of discre-
curto&dT^ tion concur to the stirring of rebellion, it may be
oommon effecta. demanded, what part each of these acteth therein ?
The daughters of Pelias, king of Thessaly, desiring
to restore their old decrepit father to the vigour of
his youth, by the counsel of Medea, chopped him
in pieces, and set him a boiling with I know not
what herbs in a cauldron, but could not revive him
again. So when eloquence and want of judgment
go together, want of judgment, like the daughters
of Pelias, consenteth, through eloquence, which is
as the witchcraft of Medea, to cut the common-
wealth in pieces, upon pretence or hope of reform-
ation, which when things are in combustion, they
are not able to efifect.

OB CORPORE POLITICO. 213

CHAPTER IX.

1. The law over sovereigns, salw populi. 2. That sovereigns
ought to establish the religion they hold for best. 3. That to
forbid unnatural copulation, promiscuous use of women, &c.
is the law of nature. 4. That to leave man as much liberty as
may be, &c. is the duty of a sovereign by the law of nature.

5. Meum and tuum, to be set out to the subjects, distinct from
one another, &c. a duty of sovereigns by the law of nature.

6. An extraordinary power for judging the abuses of magis-
trates, necessary, &c. 7. The suppressing of popularity, &c.
necessary, &c. 8. The instruction of youth, &c. necessary,
&C. 9. Avoiding of unnecessary war, a necessary duty of the
sovereign, &c.

1. Having hitherto set forth how a body politic partii.
is made, and how it may be destroyed, this place - ^; ^
requireth to say something concerning the preser- The law owr
vation of the same, not purposing to enter into the ^I^HI^i.
particulars of the art of government, but to sum up
the general heads, wherein such art is to be em-
ployed, and in which consisteth the duty of him or
them that have the sovereign power. For the duty
of a sovereign consisteth in the good government
of the people. And although the acts of sovereign
power be no injuries to the subjects who have con-
sented to the same by their implicit wills, yet when
they tend to the hurt of the people in general, they
be breaches of the law of nature, and of the divine
law ; and consequently, the contrary acts are the
duties of sovereigns, and required at their hands
to the utmost of their endeavour, by God Almighty,
under the pain of eternal death. And as the art
and duty of sovereigns consist in the same acts, so
also doth their profit. For the end of art, is profit ;

214 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. and governing to the profit of the subjects, is
. ^' . governing to the profit of the sovereign, as hath
been showed Part II. chapter v. section 1. And
these three : 1 . The law over them that have sove-
reign power : 2. Their duty : 3. Their profit : are
one and the same thing contained in this sentence,
Salus populi suprema lex. By which must be
understood, not the mere preservation of their
lives, but generally their benefit and good. So
that this is the general law for sovereigns. That
they procure, to the uttermost of their endeavour,
the good of the people.
Thai wore. 2. Aud foHismuch as eternal is better than tem-

to noabiiiOi the poral good, it is evident, that they who are in
J^wtob^ sovereign authority, are by the law of nature
obliged to further the establishing of all such doc-
trines and rule, and the commanding of all such
actions, as in their conscience they believe to be
the true way thereunto. For unless they do so, it
cannot be said truly, that they have done the
uttermost of their endeavour.
^turid'^ 3. For the temporal good of the people, it con-
puiation. pro. sistcth iu four points : 1 . Multitude : 2. Commodity

miscuous use of/.^.. •«<% i i t^

W4imeii, 4cc » of livmg: 3, Peace amongst themselves: 4. De-
theUw of nature. £gj^^ Egaiust forcigu powcr. Concerning multi-
tude, it is the duty of them that are in sovereign
authority, to increase the people, in as much as
they are governors of mankind under God Almighty,
who having created but one man, and one woman,
declared, that it was his will they should be mul-
tiplied and increased afterwards. And seeing this
is to be done by ordinances concerning copulation,
they are by the law of nature bound to make such
ordinances concerning the same, as may tend to

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 215

the increase of mankind. And hence it cometh, part ii.
that in them who have sovereign authority, not to . ^ ; ^
forbid such copulations as are against the use of
nature ; not to forbid the promiscuous use of
women, not to forbid one woman to have many
husbands, not to forbid marriages within certain
degrees of kindred and affinity, are against the law
of nature. For though it be not evident, that a
private man living under the law of natural reason
only, doth break the same, by doing any of the
things aforesaid ; yet it is manifestly apparent, that
being so prejudicial as they are to the improvement
of mankind, that not to forbid the same, is against
the law of natural reason in him, that hath taken
into his hands any portion of mankind to improve.

4. The commodity of living consisteth in liberty ThBttoicare

• ^-^ man as much

and wealth. By liberty, I mean, that there be no liberty as may
prohibition without necessity of any thing to any duty o'r "sow-
man, which was lawful to him in the law of nature; {JJjf'^f^^itSl
that is to say, that there be no restraint of natural
liberty, but what is necessary for the good of the
commonwealth, and that well-meaning men may
not fall into the danger of laws, as into snares,
before they be aware. It appertaineth also to this
liberty, that a man may have commodious passage
from place to place, and not be imprisoned or con-
fined with the difficulty of ways, and want of
means for transportation of things necessary. And
for the wealth of people, it consisteth in three
things, the well ordering of trade, procuring of
labour, and forbidding the superfluous consuming
of food and apparel. All those therefore that are
in sovereign authority, and have taken upon them
the government of people, are bound by the law of

216 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. nature to make ordinances consisting in the points
^, ^; _^ afore-named, as being contrary to the law of nature,
unnecessarily, either for one's own fancy, to enthral,
or tie men so, as they cannot move without danger ;
or to suflFer them whose maintenance is our bene-
fit, to want anything necessary for them, by our
negligence.
Mewm and 5. For maintaining' of peace at home, there be

out to the tub. SO many things necessanly to be considered, and
iSS* one t^ taken order in, as there be several causes concur-
*J«v^^cj^tt^ ring to sedition. And first, it is necessary to set
theuwofnature. out to cvciy subjcct, his propriety, and distinct
lands and goods, upon which he may exercise and
have the benefit of his own industry, and without
which men would fall out amongst themselves, as
did the herdsmen of Abraham and Lot, every man
encroaching and usurping as much of the common
benefit as he can, which tendeth to quarrel and
sedition. Secondly, to divide the burthens and
charges of the commonwealth proportionably . Now
there is b, proportionably to every man's ability, and
there is a proportionably to his benefit by com-
monwealth : and this latter is it, which is accord-
ing to the law of nature. For the burdens of the
commonwealth being the price that we pay for the
benefit thereof, they ought to be measured thereby.
And there is no reason, when two men equally en-
joying, by the benefit of the commonwealth, their
peace and liberty, to use their industry to get their
livings, whereof one spareth, and layeth up some-
what, the other spendeth all he gets, why they
should not equally contribute to the common
charge. That seemeth therefore to be the most

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 217

equal way of dividing the burden of public charge, part ii.
when every man shall contribute according to what . ^' .
he spendeth, and not according to what he gets.
And this is then done, when men pay the common-
wealth's part in the payments they make for their
own provision. And this seemeth not only most
equal, but also least sensible, and least to trouble
the mind of them that pay it. For there is nothing
so aggravateth the grief of parting with money to
the public, as to think they are over-rated, and
that their neighbours whom they envy, do there-
upon insult over them, and this disposeth them to
resistance, and, after that such resistance hath
produced a mischief, to rebellion.

6. Another thing necessary for the maintaining An «traor-
of peace, is the due execution of justice, which con- fo^JS^ Ae
sisteth principally in the right performance of their ^^^^^
duties, which are the magistrates, ordained for the <»«»y. Se-
same by and imder the authority of the sovereign
power, which being private men in respect of the
sovereign, and consequently such as may have pri-
vate ends, whereby they may be corrupted with
gifts, or intercession of friends, ought to be kept
in awe by an higher power, lest people, grieved by
their injustice, should take upon them to make
their own revenges, to the disturbance of the com-
mon peace ; which can by no way be avoided in
the principal and immediate magistrates, without
the judicature of the sovereign himself, or some
extraordinary power delegated by him. It is there-
fore necessary, that there be a power extraordinary,
as there shall be occasion from time to time, for
the syndication of judges and other magistrates,

218 D£ CORPORE POLITICO.

PART 11. that shall abuse their authority, to the wrong and
. ^' . discontent of the people ; and a free and open way
for the presenting of grievances to him or them
that have the sovereign authority.
The rappresniig 7. Bcsidcs thcsc considcratious, by which are
1WOMM17, dec prevented the discontents that arise from oppres-
sion, there ought to be some means for the keeping
under of those, that are disposed to rebellion by
ambition ; which consist principally in the con-
stancy of him that hath the sovereign power, who
ought therefore constantly to grace and encourage
such, as being able to serve the commonwealth, do
nevertheless contain themselves within the bounds
of modesty, without repining at the authority of
such as are employed, and without aggravating the
errors, which, as men, they may commit, especially
when they suffer not in their own particular ; and
constantly to show displeasure, and dislike of the
contrary. And not only so, but also to ordain
severe punishments for such, as shall by reprehen-
sion of public actions, affect popularity and ap-
plause amongst the multitude, by which they may
be enabled to have a faction in the commonwealth
at their devotion.
The inftniction 8. Auothcr tUug ncccssary, is the rooting out
^J^^^ &^; of the consciences of men, all those opinions which
seem to justify and give pretence of right to rebel-
lious actions ; such as are the opinions, that a man
can do nothing lawfully against his private con-
science ; that they who have the sovereignty, are
subject to the civil laws ; that there is any authority
of subjects, whose negative may hinder the affirm-
ative of the sovereign power; that any subject

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 219

hath a propriety distinct from the dominion of the ^j^j> u,
commonwealth ; that there is a body of the peo- , g-
pie without him or them that have the sovereign
power ; and that any lawful sovereign may be
resisted under the name of a tyrant ; which opinions
are they, which, Part II. chap. viii. sect. 5 — 10,
have been declared to dispose men to rebellion.
And because opinions which are gotten by educa-
tion, and in length of time, are made habitual,
cannot be taken away by force, and upon the sud-
den ; they must therefore be taken away also by
time and education. And seeing the said opinions
have proceeded from private and public teaching,
and those teachers have received them from grounds
and principles, which they have learned in the
Universities, from the doctrine of Aristotle, and
others, who have delivered nothing concerning
morality and policy demonstratively; but being
passionately addicted to popular government, have
insinuated their opinions by eloquent sophistry.
There is no doubt, if the true doctrine concerning
the law of nature, and the properties of a body
politic, and the nature of law in general, were per-
spicuously set down and taught in the Universities,
but that young men, who come thither void of
prejudice, and whose minds are as white paper,
capable of any instruction, would more easily re-
ceive the same, and afterward teach it to the
people, both in books and otherwise, than now
they do the contrary.

9. The last thing contained in that supreme law. Avoiding of
salus populiy is their defence; and consisteth war, a neces.
partly in the obedience and unity of the subjects, JJIJL^,''^^

220 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II. of which hath been ah*eady spoken^ and in which
^ ^' _. consisteth the means of levying soldiers, and of
ATotding of having money, arms, ships, and fortified places in
^^^^'n^ readiness for defence ; and partly, in the avoiding
J^^^/J^of unnecessary wars. For such commonwealths,
or such monarchs, as a£fect war for itself, that is to
say, out of ambition, or of vain-glory, or that make
account to revenge every little injury, or disgrace
done by their neighbours, if they ruin not them-
selves, their fortune must be better than they have
reason to expect.

CHAPTER X.

1. All expressions, &c. concerniDg future actions* are either
covenant, counsel, or command. 2. The difference between a
law and a covenant 3. The command of him whose com-
mand is law in one thing, is law in every thing. 4. The differ-
ence between law and counsel. 5. The difference between jus
and lex. 6. The division of laws, &c. 7. That the divine
moral law, and the law of nature, is the same. 8. That the
civil laws are the common measure of right and wrong, &c.
9. Martial law is civil law. 10. Written laws, &c. Unwritten,
&c. Customs and opinions, &c.

All expnttions, J. Thus fax conccming the Nature of Man, and

fti^ire Miionsf thc coustltution and properties of a Body Politic.

^J^^^^ There remaineth only for the last chapter, to speak

**«»°*"^- of the nature and sorts of law. And first it is

manifest, that all laws are declarations of the mind,

concerning some action future to be done, or

omitted. And all declarations and expressions of

the mind concerning future actions and omissions,

are either promissivej as / will do^ or not do ; or

provisive, as for example. If this he done or not

D£ CORPORE POLITICO. 221

done^ this will follow ; or imperative y as Do this, part ii.
or do it not. In the first sort of these expressions, ^ ^^' ^
consisteth the nature of a covenant ; in the second,
consisteth counsel ; in the third, command.

2. It is evident when a man doth, or forbeareth '^^'^
to do any action, if he be moved thereto by this "^ a covenant
only consideration, that the same is good or eviJ.
in itself; and that there be no reason why the
will or pleasure of another, should be of any weight
in his deliberation, that then neither to do nor
omit the action deliberated, is any breach of law.
And consequently, whatsoever is a law to a man,
respecteth the will of another, and the declaration
thereof. But a covenant is a declaration of a man's
own will. And therefore a law and a covenant
diflFer : and though they be both obligatory, and a
law obligeth no otherwise than by virtue of some
covenant made by him who is subject thereunto,
yet they oblige by several sorts of promises. For
a covenant obligeth by promise of an action, or
omission especially named and limited ; but a law
bindeth by a promise of obedience in general,
whereby the action to be done, or left undone, is
referred to the determination of him, to whom the
covenant is made. So that the diflference between
a covenant and a law, standeth thus: in simple
covenant, the action to be done, or not done, is
first limited and made known, and then followeth
the promise to do or not do; but in a law, the
obligation to do or not to do, precedeth, and the
declaration what is to be done, or not done, follow-
eth after.

3. And from this may be deduced, that which to

222 DE CORPORB POLITICO.

PART II. some may seem a paradox^ That the command of

. ^^; ^ him, whose command is a law in one thing, is a

The command of ^tc in evcTy thing. For seeing a man is obliged

maaTia u^ to obeclience before what he is to do be known, he

fal^itoi!'' ^ obliged to obey in general, that is to say, in every

thing.
Thediffareoce 4, That the couiisel of a man is no law to him
■nd ooanaeL that is counselled, and that he who alloweth another
to give him counsel, doth not thereby oblige him-
self to follow the same, is manifest enough. And
yet men usually call counselling, by the name of
governing ; not that they are not able to distinguish
between them, but because they envy many times
those men that are called to counsel, and are there-
fore angry with them that they are counselled. But
if to counsellors there should be given a right to have
their counsel followed, then are they no more coun-
sellors, but masters of them whom they counsel ;
and their counsels no more counsels, but laws. For
the diflference between a law and a counsel being
no more but this, that in counsel the expression
is. Do, hecatLse it is best ; in a law. Do, hecatise I
liave a right to compel you ; or Do, because I say,
do ; when counsel should give the reason of the
action it adviseth to, because the reason thereof
itself is no more counsel, but a law.
The difference 5. Thc uamcs Icx and jus, that is to say, law
^**'^°'^ * and right, are often confounded, and yet scarce are
there any two words of more contrary significa-
tion. For right is that liberty which law leaveth
us, and laws those restraints by which we agree
mutually to abridge one another's liberty. Law
and right therefore are no less diflFerent than

k

D£ CORPORE POLITICO. 223

restraint and liberty, which are contrary ; and part ii.
whatsoever a man doth, that liveth in a common- ^ ^Q- .
wealth jure J he doth it jure chili, jure naturae,
and jure divino. For whatsoever is against any
of these laws, cannot be said to be jure. For the
civil law cannot make that to be done jure, which
is against the law divine, or of nature. And there-
fore whatsoever any subject doth, if it be not con-
trary to the civil law, and whatsoever a sovereign
doth, if it be not against the law of nature, he
doth it jure divino, by divine right. But to say,
lege divind, by divine law, is another thing. For
the laws of God and nature allowing greater liberty
than is allowed by the law civil ; for subordinate
laws do still bind more than superior laws, the
essence of law being not to loose, but to bind, a
man may be commanded that by a law civil, which
is not commanded by the law of nature, nor by
the law divine. So that of things done lege, that
is to say, by command of the law, there is some
place for a distinction between lege divind, and
lege civili. As when a man giveth an alms, or
helpeth him that is in need, he doth it not lege
civili, but lege divind, by the divine law, the pre-
cept whereof is charity. But for things that are
done jure, nothing can be said to be done jure di-
vino, that is not also jure civili, unless it be done
by them that having sovereign power, are not
subject to the civil law.

6. The diflferences of laws, are according to the The iiiTiMan
diflFerences, either of the authors and lawmakers, **
or of the promulgation, or of those that are subject
to them. From the difference of the authors,

224 DE CORPORE POLITICO.

FART II. or lawmakers, cometh the division of law into
. \^' . divine^ natural^ and civil. From the diflFerence of
promulgation, proceedeth the division of laws into
written and unwritten. And from the difference
of the persons to whom the law appertaineth, it
proceedeth, that some laws are called simply laws,
and some penal. As for example, thou slmlt not
steal, is simply a law ; but this, he that stealeth
an ox, shall restore four-fold, is a penal, or as
others call it, a judicial law. Now in those laws,
which are simply laws, the commandment is ad-
dressed to every man ; but in penal laws the com-
mandment is addressed to the magistrate, who is
only guilty of the breach of it, when the penalties
ordained, are not inflicted ; to the rest appertaineth
nothing, but to take notice of their danger.
Thiu the di- 7- As for the first division of law into divine,

■ndtheiawofn^ ntttural, and civil, the first two branches are one
tuw,iitheMme.^^^ thc samc law. For the law of nature, which

is also the moral law, is the law of the author of
nature, God Almighty ; and the law of God taught
by our Saviour Christ, is the moral law. For the
sum of God's law is. Thou shall love God above
all, and thy neighbour as thyself ; and the same
is the sum of the law of nature, as hath been
showed. Part I. chap. v. And although the doc-
trine of our Saviour be of three parts, moral,
theological, and ecclesiastical; the former part
only, which is the moral, is of the nature of a law
universal ; the latter part is a branch of the law
civil ; and the theological, which containeth those
articles concerning the divinity and kingdom of
our Saviour, without which there is no salvation.

DB CORPORE POLITICO. 225

is not delivered in the nature of laws, but of coun- part ii
sel and direction, how to avoid the punishment, . ^^' ^
which by the violation of the moral law, men are
subject to. For it is not infidelity that condemneth,
though it be faith that saveth, but the breach of
the law and commandments of God, written first
in man's heart, and afterwards in tables, and de-
livered to the Jews by the hands of Moses.

8. In the state of nature, where every man is his 7^ ^ ^^

•' laws are the

own judge, and diflFereth from other concerning the common me*,
names and appellations of things, and from those I^ljl.
diflFerences arise quarrels and breach of peace, it
was necessary there should be a common measure
of all things, that might fall in controversy. As
for example ; of what is to be called right, what
good, what virtue, what much, what little, what
meu7n and tuumj what a pound, what a quart, &c.
For in these things private judgments may differ,
and beget controversy. This common measure,
some say, is right reason : with whom I should con-
sent, if there were any such thing to be found or
known in rerum naturd. But commonly they that
call for right reason to decide any controversy, do
mean their own. But this is certain, seeing right
reason is not existent, the reason of some man or
men must supply the place thereof ; and that man or
men, is he or they, that have the sovereign power,
as hath been already proved ; and consequently the
civil laws are to all subjects the measures of their
actions, whereby to determine, whether they be
right or w rong, profitable or unprofitable, virtuous
or vicious ; and by them the use and definition of
all names not agreed upon, and tending to contro-

VOL. IV. Q

226

DE CORPORE POLITICO.

PART II.

10.

Martiallaw
is civi] law.

Written laws,
Unwritten, Ac.
Customs, and
Opinions, dec

versy, shall be established. As for example, when
upon occasion of some strange and deformed birth,
it shall not be decided by Aristotle, or the philo-
sophers, whether the same be a man, or no, but by
the laws; the civil law containing in it the ecclesi-
astical, as a part thereof, proceeding from the power
of ecclesiastical government, given by our Saviour
to all Christian sovereigns, as his immediate vicars,
as hath been said Part II. chap. vii. sect. 10.

9. But seeing it hath been said, that all laws are
either natural or civil, it may be demanded, to
which of these shall be referred that law, which is
called martial law, and by the Romans, disciplina
militaris ? And it may seem to be the same with
the law of nature ; because the laws by which a
multitude of soldiers are governed in an army are
not constant, but continually changing with the
occasion ; and that is still a law, which is reason
for the present, and reason is the law of nature.
It is nevertheless true, that martial law is civil law,
because an army is a body politic, the whole power
whereof is in the General, and the laws thereof
made by him ; and though they still follow and
change as reason requireth, yet it is not, as the
reason of every private man, but as the reason of
the General requireth.

10. When he or they in whom is the sovereign
power of a commonwealth, are to ordain laws for
the government and good order of the people, it is
not possible they should comprehend all cases of
controversy that may fall out, or perhaps any con-
siderable diversity of them : but as time shall in-
struct them by the rising of new occasions, so are

DE CORPORE POLITICO. 227

also laws from time to time to be ordained : and part it.
in such cases where no special law is madcy the . ^^- ^
law of nature keepeth its place, and the magistrates written iaw».
ought to give sentence according thereunto, that is customs, imd
to say, according to natural reason. The constitu- ^"^^^ ^
tions therefore of the sovereign power, by which
the liberty of nature is abridged, are written, be-
cause there is no other way to take notice of them;
whereas the laws of nature are supposed to be
written in men's hearts. Written laws therefore
are the constitutions of a commonwealth expressed;
and unwritten, are the laws of natural reason.
Custom of itself maketh no laws. Nevertheless
when a sentence hath been once given, by them
that judge by their natural reason, whether the
same be right or wrong, it may attain to the vigour
of a law ; not because the like sentence hath of
custom been given in the like case, but because the
sovereign power is supposed tacitly to have ap-
proved such sentence for right, and thereby it
Cometh to be a law, and numbered amongst the
written laws of the commonwealth. For if custom
were sufficient to introduce a law, then it would be
in the power of every one that is deputed to hear a
cause, to make his errors laws. In the like manner,
those laws that go under the title of responsa pru-
dentum, that is to say, the opinions of lawyers, are
not therefore laws, because responsa prudentuniy
but because they are admitted by the sovereign.
And from this may be collected, that when there is
a case of private contract between the sovereign
and the subject, a precedent against reason shall
not prejudice the cause of the sovereign ; no pre-

Q 2

TAWT iU

14,

1^f\n09kUim%

9,$/wnUf%f 4k<t,

f ^^INMM, w^S*

338 DE COEPOEE POLITICO.

cedent beiDemade a law, bat npon supposition that
the sname wa^^ reasonable from the beginning.

And thfiA rnnch coneeming the elements and ge-
neral fcronufk of law?! natnral and politic. As for
the law of national, it u the same with the law of na^
tore. For that which Is the law of natore between
man and man, before the constitution of common-
wealth, is the law of nations between sovereign and
sovereign, after.

OF

LIBEETY AND NECESSITY :

A TREATISE,

WHEREIN ALL CONTROVERSY CONCERNING

PREDESTINATION, ELECTION, FREE-WILL, GRACE,
MERITS, REPROBATION, &c.

IS FULLY DECIDED AND CLEARED.

IN ANSWER TO A TREATISE
WRITTEN BY THE BISHOP OF LONDONDERRY,
ON THE SAME SUBJECT.

TO THE

SOBER AND DISCREET READER,

It made St. Chrysostom tremble whenever he reflected
on the proportion, which those that went the narrow
way, bore to those which marched in the broad, how
many were the called, and how few the chosen, how
many they were that were created for and in a capa>
city of eternal beatitude, and how few attained it.
This consideration certainly would make a man look
upon the Holy Scriptures, among Christians, as the
greatest indulgence of heaven, being all the directions
it hath been pleased to afford poor man in so difficult
a journey as that of his eternal bliss or misery. But
when a man cometh to look into those transcendant
writings, he finds them to be the works of a sort of
innocent harmless men, that had little acquaintance
or familiarity with the world, and consequently not
much interested in the troubles and quarrels of seve-
ral countries ; that though they are all but necessary,
yet were they written occasionally, rather than out
of design ; and lastly, that their main business is, to
abstract man from this world, and to persuade him to
prefer the bare hope of what he can neither see,
liear, nor conceive, before all the present enjoyments
this world can afford. This begat a reverence and
esteem to them in all those who endeavour to work

232 THB EPISTLE TO THE READER.

out their salvation out of them. But if a man, not
weighing them in themselves, shall consider the prac-
tices of those, who pretend to be the interpreters of
them, and to make them fit meat for the people ; how
that instead of renouncing the world, they endeavour
to raise themselves into the greatest promotions,
leisure, and luxury ; that they make them the decoys
of the people, to carry on designs and intrigues of
state, and study the enjoyments of this world more
than any other people : he will find some grounds to
conclude, the practices of such men to be the greatest
disturbance, burden, and vexation of the Christian
part of the world. The complaint is as true as sad ;
instead of acquainting the credulous vulgar, wnth the
main end of their functions, and the great business of
their embassy, what a great measure of felicity is
prepared for them, and how easily it may be forfeited ;
they involve their consciences in the briars of a thou-
sand needless scruples, they spin out volumes out of
half sentences, nay, out of points and accents, and
raise endless controversies about things, (were men
free from passion and prejudice), in themselves clear
enough : and when they have canvassed their questions,
till they are weary themselves, and have wearied
hearers and readers, and all they have to do with,
every one sits down under his own vine, and hugs his
own apprehensions; so that after all their pains,
bandings, and implacable adhesion to parties, the in-
convenience remains still, and we as far from any
solid conviction, as at first setting out.

The controversies betwixt Rome and the Reforma-
tion are long since beaten out of the pit, by other
combatants of their own brood; so that if we speak of

THE EPISTLB TO THE READER. 233

Protestant and Catholic^ they are in a manner eon-
tent to sit down with their present acquests : for as
to conviction, he certainly is a rare proselt/tej at whose
conversion, interest^ humour ^ discontent^ inclination,
are not admitted to the debate.

But to come yet nearer our purpose, let us consider
our own fractions of fractions of religion here in
England, where if that saying, that it is better to live
where nothing is lawful^ than where all things, be
as true in religion as policy^ posterity may haply feel
the sad consequence of it. What, I pray, is the effect
of so rsioxij sermons J teachings, preachings^ exercises,
and exercising of gifts, meetings, disputations^ con-
ferences, conventicles, printed boohs, written with so
much distraction and presumption upon God Almighty,
and abuse of his Holy Word ? Marry this : it is the
seminary of many vexatious, endless, and fruitless
controversies, the consequence whereof are jealousies^
heart-burnings, exasperation of parties, the introduc-
tion of factions and national quarrels into matters of
religion, and consequently all the calamities of war
and devastation. Besides, they are good lawful di-
versions for the duller sort of citizens, who contract
diseases for want of motion ; they supply the building
of pyramids among the Egyptians, by diverting the
thoughts of the people from matters of state, and
consequently from rebellion.

They find work for printers, &c. if the parties in-
terested are troubled with the itch of popularity, and
will suffer themselves to be scratched out of somewhat
byway of contribution to the impression. Hence is the
stationer's shop furnished, and thence the minister's
study in the country, who having found out the

234 THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

humour of his auditory, consults with his stationer,
on what books his money is best bestowed ; who very
gravely, it may be, will commend Cole upon the
Philippians before the excellent, but borrowed, Caryl
upon Joh. But as to any matter of conviction, we
see every one acquiesces in his own sentiments, every
one hears the teacher who is most to his humour ; and
when he hath been at church, and pretends to have
sat at his feet, comes home and censures him as he
pleases.

To be yet a little more particular, what shall we
think of those vast and involuble volumes concerning
predestination, free-willy free-grace, election, repro-
bation, &c., which fill not only our libraries, but the
world with their noise and disturbance, whereof the
least thing we are to expect is conviction ; every side
endeavouring to make good their own grounds, and
keep the cudgels in their hands as long as they can ?
What stir is there between the Molinists and Jansen-
ists about grace and merits ; and yet both pretend
St. Augustin !

Must we not expect, that the Jesuits will, were it
for no other end but to vindicate that reputation of
learning they have obtained in the world, endeavour
to make good their tenets, though the other were the
truer opinion ? Is truth then retired to that inacces-
sible rock that admits no approaches ? Or are we all
turned Ixions, arid instead of enjoying that Juno,
entertain ourselves with the clouds of our own per-
suasions ; of which unnatural coition, what other issue
can there be but Centaurs and monstrous opinions ?
To these questions I shall not presume to answer, but
in the words of this great author, who answering the

b.

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER. 235

charge of impiety laid upon the holding of necessity^
says thus ; If we consider the greatest part of man-
kind^ not as they should he, hut as they are, that is
as men, whom either the study of acquiring wealth
and preferment, or whom the appetite of sensual
delights, or the impatience of meditating, or the rash
embracing of wrong principles, have made unapt to
discuss the truth of things, I must corf ess, ^c.

Certainly we have some reason to expect an eflfectual
cure from this man, since he hath so fortunately found
out the disease. Now if he in so few sheets hath per-
formed more than all the voluminous works of the
priests and ministers, and that in points of soul-con-
cernment and Christian interest, as predestination,
free-will, grace, merits, election, reprobation, neces-
sity, and liberty of actions, and others, the main
hinges of human salvation ; and to do this, being a
person, whom not only the averseness of his nature
to engage himself in matters of controversy of this
kind, but his severer study of the mathematics, might
justly exempt fi'om any such skirmishes ; we may not
stick to infer, that the black-coats, generally taken,
are a sort of ignorant tinkers, who in matters of
their own profession, such as is the mending and
soldering of men's consciences, have made more holes
than they found ; nay, what makes them more impar-
donable, they have neither the gratitude nor ingenuity
to acknowledge this repairer of their breaches, and
assertor of their reputation, who hath now eflfected
what they all this while have been tampering about.
I know this author is little beholden to the ministers,
and they make a great part of the nation ; and besides
them, I know there are many illiterate, obstinate,

236 THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

and inconvincible spirits : yet I dare advance this pro-
position, how bold soever it may seem to some ; that
this book, how little and contemptible soever it may
seem, contains more evidence and conviction in the
matters it treats of, than all the volumes, nay libraries,
which the priests, Jesuits, and ministers have, to our
great charge, distraction, and loss of precious time,
furnished us with. Which if so, I shall undertake for
any rational man, that all the controversial labours
concerning religion in the world, all the polemical
treatises of the most ancient or modern, shall never
breed any maggots of scruples, or dissatisfactions in
his brains, nor shall his eyes or head ever ache with
turning them over; but he shall be so resolved in
mind, as never to importune God Almighty with im-
pertinent addresses, nor ever become any of those
enthusiastical spiritati, who, as the most learned
Mr. White says, expound Scripture without sense or
reason, and are not to be disputed with but with the
same success as men write on sand, and trouble their
neighbours with their dreams, revelations, and spiri-
tual whimsies. No ! here is solid conviction, at least
so far as the metaphysical mysteries of our religion
will admit. If God be omnipotent, he is irresistible ;
if so, just in all his actions, though we, who have as
much capacity to measure the justice of God^s actions
as a man bom blind to judge of colours, haply may
not discern it. What then need any man trouble his
head, whether he be predestinated or no ? Let him
live justly and honestly according to the religion of
his country, and refer himself to God for the rest,
since he is the potter, and may do what he please
with the vessel. But I leave the reader to find his

THE BPISTLB TO THE READER. 23/

satisfaction in the treatise itself, since it may be I
derogate from it by saying so much before it. This
book, I doubt not, will find no worse entertainment
than the Leviathan^ both in regard of its bulk, and
that it doth not strike so home at the ministers and
Catholic party as that did. And yet here we must
complain of want of sufficiency or ingenuity to ac-
knowledge the truths or confute the errors of that
book; which till it is done, we shall not count the
author an heretic. On this side the sea, besides the
dirt and slander cast on him in sermons and private
meetings, none hath put anything in print against
him, but Mr. Rosse ; one who may be said to have had
so much learning, as to have been perpetually barking
at the works of the most learned. How he hath been
received beyond seas I know not, but certainly, not
without the regret of the Catholics ; who building
their church on other foundations than those of the
Scriptures^ and pretending infallibility , certitude,
and unity in religion, cannot but be discontented
that these prerogatives of religion are taken away,
not only from tradition, that is to say, from the
church, but also from the Scriptures, and are invested
in the supreme power of the nation, be it of what
persuasion it will.

Thus much. Reader, I have thought fit to acquaint
thee with, that thou mightest know what a jewel thou
hast in thy hands, which thou must accordingly value,
not by the bulk, but the preciousness. Thou hast
here in a few sheets what might prove work enough
for many thousand sermons and exercises ; and more
than the catechisms and confessions of a thousand
assemblies could ftimish thee with : thou hast what

238 THE BPISTLE TO THE READER.

will cast an eternal blemish on all the cornered caps
of the priests and Jesuits ^ and all the hlach and white
caps of the canting tribe ; to be short, thon art now
acquainted with that man, who, in matters of so
great importance as those of thy salvation, furnishes
thee with better instructions, than any thou hast
ever yet been acquainted with, what profession, per-
stmsion, opinion, or church soever thou art of; of
whom and his works make the best use thou canst.
Farewell.

TO THE

LOUD MARQUIS OF NEWCASTLE

Right Honourable,

I HAD once resolved to answer my Lord Bishop's
objections to my book De Give in the first place,
as that which concerns me most ; and afterwards to
examine his Discourse of Liberty and Neces-
sity, which, because I had never uttered my
opinion of it, concerned me the less. But seeing
it was your Lordship's and my Lord Bishop's desire
that I should begin with the latter, I was contented
so to do, and here I present and submit it to your
Lordship's judgment.

And first I assure your Lordship I find in it no
new argument neither from Scripture nor from
reason, that I have not often heard before, which
is as much as to say, I am not surprised.

The preface is a handsome one, but it appeareth
even in that, that he hath mistaken the question.
For whereas he says thus. If I he free to write
this Discourse, I have obtained the cause : I deny
that to be true, for it is enough to his freedom of
writing, that he had not written it, unless he would
himself. If he will obtain the cause, he must
prove that before he writ it, it was not necessary
he should prove it afterward. It may be his Lord-
ship thinks it all one to say, / was free to write it,
and, // was not necessary I should write it. But I

240 OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

think otherwise. For he is free to do a thing, that
may do it if he have the will to do it, and may for-
bear, if he have the will to forbear. And yet if
there be a necessity that he shall have the will to
do it, the action is necessarily to follow: and if
there be a necessity that he shall have the will to
forbear, th^ forbearing also will be necessary. The
question therefore is not, whether a man be 2, free
agent y that is to say, whether he can write or for-
bear, speak or be silent, according to his will; but,
whether the will to write, and the will to forbear,
come upon him according to his will^ or according
to anything else in his own power. I acknowledge
this liberty^ that I can do if I will ; but to say, I
can will if I will^ I take to be an absurd speech.
Wherefore I cannot grant my Lord the cause upon
his preface.

In the next place, he maketh certain distinctions
0/ liberty y and says he meaneth not liberty from
sin^ nor from servitude^ nor from violence ; but,
from necessity^ necessitation^ inevitability^ and
determination to one.

It had been better to define liberty, than thus
to distinguish. For I understand never the more
what he means by liberty ; and though he say he
means liberty from necessitation^ yet I understand
not how such a liberty can be, and it is a taking of
the question without proof. For what is else the
question between us, but whether such a liberty be
possible or not ?

There are in the same place other distinctions:
as a liberty of exercise only, which he calls a
liberty of contradiction^ namely of doing not good,
or evil simply y but of doing this or that good, or

OP LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 241

this or that evil respectively , and a liberty of spe-
cification and exercise also^ which he calls a liberty
of contrariety, namely a liberty not only to do
good or evil, but also to do or not do this or that
good or evil.

And with these distinctions his Lordship says he
clears the coast j whereas in truth, he darkeneth
his own meaning and the question, not only with
the jargon of exercise only, specification also, con-
tradiction, contrariety, but also with pretending
distinction where none is : for how is it possible
that the liberty of doing or not doing this or that
good or evil, can consist, as he says it does in God
and good angels, without a liberty of doing or not
doing good or evil ?

The next thing his Lordship does, after clearing
of the coast, is the dividing of his forces, as he
calls them, into two squadrons, one of places of
Scriptures, the other of reasons, which allegory
he useth, I suppose, because he addresseth the dis-
com'se to your Lordship, who is a military man.
All that I have to say touching this, is, that I
observe a great part of those \i\^ forces do look
and march another way, and some of them fight
amongst themselves.

And the first place of Scripture, taken from
Numb. XXX. 13, is one of those that look another
way ; the words are, If a wife make a vow, it is
left to her husband^ s choice either to establish it
or make it void. For it proves no more but that
the husband is ^free and voluntary agent, but not
that his choice therein is not necessitated or not
determined to what he shall choose, by precedent
necessary causes.

VOL. IV. R

242 OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

For if there come into the husband's mind greater
good by establishing than abrogating such a vow,
the establishing will follow necessarily ; and if the
evil that will follow in the husband's opinion out-
weigh the good, the contrary must needs follow :
and yet in this following of one*s hopes sxid JearSy
consisteth the nature of election. So that a man
may both choose this, and cannot but choose this,
and consequently choosing and necessity are joined
together.

The second place of Scripture is Joshua, xxiv. 15.
The third is 2 Sam. xxiv. 12, whereby it is clearly
proved, that there is election in man, but not proved
that such election was not necessitated by the
hopes y and fears ^ and considerations of good and
had to follow, which depend not on the will^ nor
are subject to election. And therefore one answer
serves all such places, if there were a thousand.

But his Lordship supposing, it seems, I might
answer, as I have done, that necessity and election
might stand together, and instance in the actions
of children J fools ^ or hrute beasts ^ whose fancies,
I might say, are necessitated and determined to
one; before these his proofs out of Scripture,
desires to prevent that instance, and therefore says
that the actions of children, fools, madmen, and
beasts, are indeed determined, but that they pro-
ceed not from election, nor from free, but from
spontaneous agents. As for example, that the bee,
when it maketh honey, does it spontaneously ; and
when the spider makes his web, he does it spon^
taneously, but not by election.

Though I never meant to ground my answer
upon the experience of what children, fools, mad •

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 243

men^ and hearts do ; yet that your Lordship may
understand what can be meant by spontaneouSy
and how it differeth from voluntary ^ I will answer
that distinction^ and show that it fighteth against
its fellow arguments.

Your Lordship therefore is to consider, that all
voluntary actions, where the thing that induceth
the will is not foar^ are called also spontaneous^
and said to be done by a man's own accord. As
when a man giveth money voluntarily to another
for merchandise, or out of aflFection, he is said to do
it of his own accord, which in Latin is sponte, and
therefore the action is spontaneous; though to give
one's money willingly to a thief to avoid killing, or
throw it into the sea to avoid drowning, where the
motive is Jear, be not called spontaneous. But
every spontaneous action is not therefore voluntary,
for voluntary presupposes some precedent delibera-
tion, that is to say, some consideration, and medi-
tation, of what is likely to follow, both upon the
doing, and abstaining from the action deliberated of;
whereas many actions are done of our own accord,
and are therefore spontaneous, for which never-
theless, as my Lord thinks, we never consulted nor
deliberated in ourselves. As when making no
question nor any the least doubt in the world, but
the thing we are about is good, we eat and walk,
or in anger strike or revile, which my Lord thinks
spofitaneous, but not voluntary nor elective actions,
and with such kind of actions, he says necessita-
tion may stand, but not with such as are voluntary,
and proceed upon election and deliberation. Now
if I make it appear to your Lordship, that those
actions, which, he says, proceed from spontaneity,

R 2

244 OP LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

and which he ascribes to children, fools , madmen,
and beasts, proceed from election and delihera-
tion, and that actions inconsiderate, rash, and
spontaneous, are ordinarily fonnd in those, that are
by themselves and many more thought as wise, or
wiser than ordinarily men are, then my Lord Bishop's
argument concludeth, that necessity and election
may stand together, which is contrary to that which
he intendeth by all the rest of his arguments to
prove.

And first your Lordship's own experience fur-
nishes you with proof enough, that horses, dogs,
and other brute beasts, do demur oftentimes upon
the way they are to take, the horse retiring from
some strange figure that he sees, and coming on
again to avoid the spur. And what else doth a man
that deliberateth^ but one while proceed toward
action, another w^hile retire from it, as the hope of
greater good draws him, or the fear of greater
evil drives him away.

A child may be so young as to do what it does
without all deliberation, but that is but till it have
the chance to be hurt by doing of somewhat, or till
it be of age to understand the rod : for the actions,
wherein he hath once had a check, shall be deli-
berated on the second time.

Fools and madmen manifestly deliberate no less
than the wisest men, though they make not so
good a choice, the images of things being by dis-
ease altered.

For hees and spiders, if my Lord Bishop had had
so little to do as to be a spectator of their actions,
he would have confessed not only election, but «;7,
prudence, and policy, in them, very near equal to

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 245

that of mankind. Of hees, Aristotle says, their
life is civil.

Again, his Lordship is deceived, if he think any
spontaneous action, after once being checked in it,
diflFers from an action voluntary and elective : for
even the setting of a man's foot, in the posture for
walking, and the action of ordinary eating, was
once deliberated of how and when it should be
done, and though afterward it became easy and
habitual, so as to be done without forethought ;
yet that does not hinder but that the act is volun^
tary, and proceedeth from election. So also are
the rashest actions of choleric persons voluntary
and upon deliberation : for who is there but very
young children, that hath not considered when and
how far he ought, or safely may strike or revile ?
Seeing then his Lordship agrees with me, that such
actions are fiecessitated, and the fancy of those
that do them determined to the action they do, it
follows out of his Lordship's own doctrine, that the
liberty of election does not take away the fieces-
sity of electing this or that individual thing. And
thus one of his arguments fights against another.

The second argument from Scripture, consisteth
in histories of men that did one thing, when if they
would, they might have done another ; the places
are two: one is 1 Kings iii. 10, where the history
says, God was pleased that Solomon, who might,
if he would, have asked riches, or revenge, did
nevertheless ask wisdom at God's hands : the other
is the words of St. Peter to Ananias, Acts v. 4 :
After it was sold, was it not in thine own power ?

To which the answer is the same with that
I answered to the former places, that they prove

246 OP LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

there is election^ but do not disprove the necessity y
which I maintain, of what they so elect.

The fourth argument (for to the third and fifth
I shall make but one answer) is to this eflfect ; If
the decrees of God, or his foreknowledge, or the
influence of the stars, or the concatenation of
causes, or the physical or moral efficacy of
causes, or the last dictate of the under standi7ig,
or whatsoever it he, do talte away true liberty,
then Adam before his fall had no true liberty.
Quicquid ostendes mihi sic incredulus odi.

That which I say necessitateth and determina-
teth every action, that his Lordship may no longer
doubt of my meaning, is the sum of all things,
which being now existent, conduce and concur to
the production of that action hereafter, whereof
ff any one thing now were wanting, the effect
could not be produced. This concourse of causes,
whereof every one is determined to be such as it
is by a like concourse of former causes, may well
be called (in respect they were all set and ordered
by the eternal cause of all things, God Almighty)
the decree of God.

But that the foreknowledge of God should be a
cause of any thing, cannot be truly said, seeing
foreknowledge is knowledge, and knowledge de-
pends on the existence of the things known, and
not they on it.

The influence of the stars is but a small part of
the whole cause, consisting of the concourse of all
agents.

Nor does the concourse of all causes make one
simple chain or concatenation, but an innumerable
number of chains, joined together, not in all parts,

k

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 247

but in the first link God Almighty; and consequent-
ly the whole cause of an event, doth not always
depend on one single chain, but on many together.

Natural efficacy of objects does determine t?o-
luntary agents, and 7iecessitate8 the will^ and
consequently the action ; but for moral efficacy, I
understand not what he means.

The last dictate of the judgment, concerning
the good or bad, that may follow on any action,
is not properly the whole cause, but the last part
of it, and yet may be said to produce the effect
necessarily, in such manner as the last feather may
be said to break a horse's back, when there were
so many laid on before as there wanted but that
one to do it.

Now for his argument, that if the concourse of
all the causes necessitate the effect, that then it
follows, Adam had no true liberty : I deny the
consequence ; for I make not only the effect, but
also the election, of that particular effect necessary,
inasmuch as the will itself, and each propension of
a man during his deliberation, is as much necessi-
tated, and depends on a sufficient cause, as any
thing else whatsoever. As for example, it is no
more necessary that fire should bum, than that a
man or other creature, whose limbs be moved by
fancy, should have election, that is liberty, to do
what he hath a fancy to do, though it be not in his
will or power to choose his fancy, or choose his
election and will.

This doctrine, because my Lord Bishop says he
hates, I doubt had better been suppressed, as it
should have been, if both your Lordship and he had
not pressed me to an answer.

248 OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

The arguments of greatest consequence, are the
third and the fifth, and they fall both into one,
namely : //' there he a necessity of all events , that
it will follow y that j)ratse and reprehension^ and
reward and punishment^ are all vain and unjust ;
and that if God should openly forbid, and secretly
necessitate the same action, punishing men for
what they could not aiwid, there would be no
belief among them of heaven and hell.

To oppose hereunto I must borrow an answer
from St. Paul, Rom. ix. 20, 2 1 . From the eleventh
verse of the chapter to the eighteenth, is laid down
the very same objection in these words : When
they, meaning Esau and Jacob, were yet unborn,
and hud done neither good nor evil, that the pur-
pose of God according to election, not by ivorhs,
but by him that calleth, might remain firm, it was
said unto her (viz. Rebecca^ that the elder shoidd
serve the younger, &c. What then shall we say ?
Is there i??Justice with God ? God forbid. It is
not therefore in him that icilleth, nor in him that
runneth, but in God that showeth mercy. For
the Scripture saith to Pharaoh, I have stirred
thee up that I might shoiv my power in thee, and
that my name might be set firth in all the earth.
Therefore whom God tvilleth, he hath mercy on,
and tchom he willeth he hardeneth. Thus you see
the caseput by St. Paul, is the same with that of
my Lord Bishop, and the same objection in these
words following :

Thou wilt ask me then, why does God yet com-
plain, for who hath resisted his will ?

To this therefore the Apostle answers, not by
denying it was God's will, or that the decree of

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 249

God concerning Esau was not before he had sin-
ned, or that Esau was not necessitated to do what
he did ; but thus : Who art thou, O 7naii, that in^
terrogatest God? Shall the work sarj to the
workman^ why hast thou made me thus ? Hath
7iot the potter power over the clay, of the same
stuff to make one vessel to honour, another to
dishonour ? According therefore to this answer
of St. Paul, I answer my Lord's objection, and say,
the potcer of God alone without other helps is
sw^QA^nt justification of any action he doth. That
which men make amongst themselves here by
pacts and covenants, and call by the name of jus-
tice, and according whereunto men are accounted
and termed rightly just or unjust^ is not that by
which God Almighty's actions are to be measured
or called just, no more than his counsels are to be
measured by human wisdom. That which he does,
is made just by his doing it ; just, I say, in him,
though not always just in us.

For a man that shall command a thing openly,
and plot secretly the hindrance of the same, if he
punish him that he so commandeth, for not doing
it, it is unjust. So also, his counsels are therefore
not in vain, because they be his, whether we see
the use of them or not. When God afflicted Job, he
did object no sin unto him, but justified his afflict-
ing of him, by telling him of his potoer: (Job
xl. 9 :) Hast thou, saith God, an arm like mine ?
(Job xxviii. 4) : Where wert thou when I laid the
foundations of the earth ? and the like. So our
Saviour, (John ix. 3) concerning the man that was
bom blind, said, it was not for his sin, or for his
parents' sin, but that the power of God might

250 OP LIBBRTY AND NECESSITY.

be shown in him. Beasts are subject to death
and torments, yet they cannot sin : it was God's
will they should be so. Power irresistible justi-
jies all actions ^really and properly y\n whomsoever
it be found ; less power does not, and because such
power is in God only, he must needs be just in
all actions, and we, that not comprehending his
counsels, call him to the bar, commit injustice in it.

I am not ignorant of the usual reply to his an-
swer, by distinguishing between will and permis-
sion, as that God Almighty does indeed sometimes
permit sins, and that he also foreknoweth that the
sin he permitteth, shall be committed, but does not
will it, nor necessitate it.

I know also they distinguish the action from the
sin of the action, saying, that God Almighty does
indeed cause the action^ whatsoever action it be,
but not the siitfulness or irregularity of it, that
is, the discordance between the action and the
law. Such distinctions as these dazzle my under-
standing ; I find no diflference between the tvill to
have a thing done, and the permission to do it,
when he that permitteth can hinder it, and knows
that it will be done unless he hinder it. Nor find
I any diflference between an action and the sin of
that action ; as for example, between the killing of
Uriah, and the sin of Da\'id in killing Uriah, nor
when 07ie is cause both of the action and of the
laWy how another can be cause of the disagreement
between them, no more than how one man making
a longer and a shorter garment, another can make
the inequality that is between them. This I know ;
God cannot sin, because his doing a thing makes
it just, and consequently, no sin ; as also because

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 251

whatsoever can sin, is subject to another's law,
which God is not. And therefore it is blasphemy
to say, God can sin ; but to say, that God can so
order the world, as a sin may be necessarily caused
thereby in a man, I do not see how it is any dis-
honour to him. Howsoever, if such or other dis^
tinctions can make it clear, that St. Paul did not
think Esau's or Pharaoh's actions proceeded from
the will and purpose of God, or that proceeding
from his will, could not therefore without injustice
be blamed or punished, I will, as soon as I under-
stand them, turn unto my Lord's opinion : for I
now hold nothing in all this question betwixt us,
but what seemeth to me, not obscurely, but most
expressly said in this place by St. Paul. And thus
much in answer to his places of Scripture.

TO THE ARGUMENTS FROM REASON.

Of the arguments from reason y the first is that
which his Lordship saith is drawn from Zeno's
beating of his man, which is therefore called argu--
mentum haculinum^ that is to say, a wooden argu-
ment. The story is this ; Zeno held, that all actions
were necessary ; his man therefore being for some
fault beaten, excused himself upon the necessity of
it : to avoid this excuse, his master pleaded like-
wise the necessity of beating him. So that not he
that maintained, but he that derided the necessity,
was beaten, contrary to that his Lordship would
infer. And the argument was rather withdrawn
than drawn from the story.

The second argument is taken from certain

252 OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

inconveniences which his Lordship thinks would
follow such an opinion. It is true that ill use
might be made of it, and therefore your Lordship
and my Lord Bishop ought, at my request, to keep
private what I say here of it. But the inconveni-
ences are indeed none, and what use soever be
made of truth, yet tnith is truth, and now the
question is not, what is fit to be preached, but,
what is true.

The first inconvenience he says, is this ; That
the laws, tchich prohibit any action^ will be unjust.

2. That all consultations are vain.

3. That admonitions to men of understanding y
are of no more use, than to children, fools, and
madmen.

4. That, praise, dispraise, reward a?id punish-
ment, are in rain.

5. 6. That counsels, acts, arms, boohs, instru-
ments, study, tutors, medicines, are in vain.

To which arguments his Lordship expecting I
should answer, by saying, the ignorance of the
event were enough to make us use the means, adds,
as it were a reply to my answer foreseen, these
words : Alas ! how should our not knowing the
event be a sufficient motive to make us use the
means ? Wherein his Lordship says right, but my
answer is not that vv^hich he expecteth : I answer,

First, that the 7iecessity of an action doth not
make the laws, that prohibit it, unjust. To let
pass, that not the necessity, but the will to break
the laiv, maketh the action unjust, because the law
regardeth the tcill, and no other precedent causes
of action. And to let pass, that no law can pos-
sibly be unjust, inasmuch as every man maketh.

k

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 253

by his consent, the law he is bound to keep, and
which consequently must be just, unless a man can
be unjust to himself. I say, what necessary cause
soever precede an action, yet if the action be for^
hidden, he that doth it willinghj may justly be
pmiished. For instance, suppose the law on pain
of death prohibit stealing, and that there be a man,
w^ho by the strength of temptation is necessitated
to steal, and is thereupon put to death, does not
this punishment deter others from theft ? Is it not
a cause that others steal not ? Doth it not frame
and make their wills to justice ?

To make the law, is therefore to make a cause
of justice, and to 7iecessitate justice ; and conse-
quently, it is no injustice to make such a law.

The intention of the law is not to grieve the
delinquent, for that which is past, and not to be
undone ; but to make him and others just, that
else would not be so, and respecteth not the evil
act past, but the good to come ; insomuch as with-
out the good intention for the future, no past act
of a delinquent could justify his killing in the sight
of God. But you will say, hov/ is it just to kill
one man to amend another, if what were done
w ere necessary ? To this I answer, that men are
justly killed, not for that their actions are not
necessitated, but because they are noxious, and
they are spared and preserved whose actions are
not noxious. For where there is no law, there no
killing nor anything else can be unjust ; and by
the right of nature, we destroy, without being un-
just, all that is noxious, both beasts and men ; and
for beasts we kill them justly, when we do it in
order to our own preservation, and yet my Lord

254 OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

himself confesseth, that their actions, as being only
spontaneous J and not Jree, are all necessitated and
determined to that one thing they shall do. For
men, when we make societies or commonwealths,
we lay not down our right to kill, excepting in
certain cases, as murder, theft or other oflFensive
action ; so that the rights which the cominonwealth
hath to put a man to death for crimes, is not
created by the law^ but remains from the first right
of nature J which every man hath to preserve him-
self ; for that the law doth not take the right away
in the case of criminals, who were by the law ex-
cepted. Men are not therefore put to death, or
punished, for that their theft proceedeth from
election ; but because it was noxious and contrary
to men's preservation, and the punishment condu-
cing to the preservation of the rest, inasmuch as to
punish those that do voluntary hurt, and none else,
frameth and maketh men's wills such as men
would have them. And thus it is plain, that from
the necessity of a voluntary action, cannot be
inferred the injustice of the law that forbiddeth it,
or the magistrate that punisheth it.

Secondly, I deny that it maketh cotisuI tat ions to
be in vain ; it is the consultation that causeth a
man, and necessitateth him to choose to do one
thing rather than another : so that unless a man
say that that cause is in vain which necessitateth
the eflFect, he cannot infer the superfluousness of
consultation out of the necessity of the election
proceeding from it. But it seemeth his Lordship
reasons thus : If I must do this rather than that, I
shall do this rather than that, though I consult
not at all ; which is a false proposition and a falser

OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 255

consequence, and no better than this : If I shall
live till to-morrow, I shall live till to-morrow,
though I run myself through with a sword to-day.
If there be a necessity that an action shall be done,
or that any effect shall be brought to pass, it does
not therefore follow, that there is nothing neces-
sarily requisite as a means to bring it to pass ; and
therefore when it is determined, that one thing
shall be chosen before another, it is determined
also for what cause it shall so be chosen, which
cause, for the most part, is deliberation or cow-
sullationy and therefore consultation is not in vain,
and indeed the less in vain by how much the elec-
tion is more necessitated, if more and less had
any place in necessity.

The same answer is to be given to the third sup-
posed inconvenience, namely, that admonitions are
in vain ; for the admonitions are parts of consul-
tation, the admonitor being a counsellor for the
time to him that is admonished.

The fourth pretended inconvenience is, that
praise y dispraise, reward, and punishment will be
in vain. To which I answer, that for praise and
dispraise, they depend not at all on the necessity
of the action praised or dispraised. For what is
it else to praise, but to say a thing is good r Good,
I say, for me, or for somebody else, or for the state
and commonwealth ? And what is it to say an
action is good, but to say it is as I would wish ?
or as another would have it, or according to the
will of the state ? that is to say, according to the
law. Does my Lord think that no action can please
me, or him, or the commonwealth, that should
proceed from necessity? Things may be there-

256 OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

fore necessanjy and yet praise-worthy ^ as also
necessary^ and yet dispraised^ and neither of them
both in vain, because praise and dispraise^ and
likewise reward cind jmnishmentj do by example
make and conform the will to good and evil. It
was a very great praise in my opinion, that Vel-
leius Paterculus (Lib. ii. 35) gives Cato, where
he says that he w^as good by nature^ et quia aliter
esse non pot nit.

To the fifth and sixth inconveniences, that coiin-
selsy artSy arms^ instruments j hooks^ study ^ medi-
cines, and the like, would be superfluous, the same
answer serves as to the former, that is to say, that
this consequence, if the effect shall vecessarily
come to pass, then it shall come to pass without its
causes, is a false one, and those things named coun-
sels, arts, arms, &c. are the causes of these effects.
His Lordship's third argument consisteth in other
inconveniences, which he saith will follow, namely,
impiety and negligence of religious duties, as
repentance, and zeal to God's service, &c.

To which I answer as to the rest, that they
follow not. I must confess, if we consider the
greatest part of mankind, not as they should be,
but as they are, that is, as men, whom either the
study of acquiring wealth, or preferment, or whom
the appetite of sensual delights, or the impatience
of meditating, or the rash embracing of wTong
principles, have made xmapt to discuss the truth of
things : I must, I say, confess that the dispute of
this question will rather hurt than help their piety ;
and therefore if his Lordship had not desired this
answer, I should not have WTitten it, nor do I write
It but in hopes your Lordship and his will keep it

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 257

private. Nevertheless in very truth, the necessity
of events does not of itself draw with it any impiety
at all. For piety consisteth only in two things ;
one, that we honour God in our hearts, which is,
that we think as highly of his power as we can,
for to honour anything is nothing else but to think
it to be of great power ; the other is, that we
signify that honour and esteem by our words and
actions, which is called culttis, or worship of God.
He therefore that thinketh that all things proceed
from God's eternal will, and consequently are ne^
cessary, does he not think God omnipotent ? Does
he not esteem of his power as highly as is possible ?
which is to honour God as much as may be in his
heart. Again, he that thinketh so, is he not more
apt by external acts and words to acknowledge it,
than he that thinketh otherwise ? yet is this exter-
nal acknowledgment the same thing which we call
worship. So that this opinion fortifies piety in
both kinds, external and internal ; therefore is far
from destroying it. And for repentance, which is
nothing else but a glad returning into the right
way, after the grief of being out of the way ;
though the cause that made him go astray were
necessary, yet there is no reason why he should
not grieve ; and, again though the cause why he
returned into the way were necessary, there re-
mained still the causes of joy. So that the neces^
sity of the actions taketh away neither of those
parts of repentance, grief for the error, and joy
for returning.

And for prayer, whereas he saith that the ne^
cessity of things destroy prayer, I deny it ; for
though prayer be none of the causes that move

VOL. IV. s

258 UBnmr and jncmsmrnT^

(kA!% win, hifl will being mirhaTigpahle, yet
we find in God's word, he will not grvelmTiFi mlu^i
bot to thofle that ask, the motive of jasf^ar m the
iMone. Prater » the gift of God no Jesm tihsi tik
kles/fimg, and the pfrajer 19 decreed together in tik
mme decree wherein the bksing s decreed It
is manifest that tkamisgitimg is no csnae of Ae
Mewnng past, and that which is poirt is sure and
necegsarjr, yet even amongst men dmiks is in ne
M an acknowledgment of the benefit past* dKmgh
we nhonld expect no new benefit for ofor giatitink .
And prayer to God Almighty is but thankspving
f(fr God's blessings in general, and though it pre-
ce<le the particular thing we ask, yet it is not a
cause or means of it, but a significatioii that we
exfiect nothing but from God, in such manner, as
he, not as we, will ; and our Saviour by word of
mouth bids us pray, thy will, not our will, be done,
and by example teaches us the same; for he prayed
thuSy Father \f it he thy will, let this cup pass,
ici% 'riie end of prayer, as of thanksgiving, is not
to move but to honour God Almighty, in acknow-
h'dging that what we ask can be effected by him
only.

77ie fourth argument from reason is this : the
order ^ beauty ^ and perfection of the world re-
qnireth that in the universe should he agents of
all Horts ; some necessary, some free, some eom-^
tiuffcnt. lie that shall make all things neees-
narij^ or all things free, or all things contingent,
fhfh overthrow the heauty and perfection ^ tie
ivorliL

III which argument I observe, first a eomtradic'
tion ; for seeing he that maketh anything, in that

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 269

he maketh it^ maketh it to be necessary ; it fol-
loweth that he that maketh all things, maketh all
things necessarily to be : as if a workman make a
garment^ the garment must necessarily be; so if
God make every thing, every thing must necessarily
be. Perhaps the beauty of the world requireth,
though we know it not, that some agents should
work without deliberation (which his lordship calls
necessary agents) and some agents with delibera-
tion (and those both he and I Q^free agents) and
that some agents should work, and we not know
how (and their effects we both call contingents) \
but this hinders not but that he that electeth may
have his election necessarily determined to one by
former causes, and that which is contingent^ and
imputed to fortune, be nevertheless necessary and
depend on precedent necessary causes. For by
contingent, men do not mean that which hath no
cause, but that which hath not for cause anything
that we perceive ; as for example, when a traveller
meets with a shower, the journey had a cause, and
the rain had a cause sufficient to produce it ; but
because the journey caused not the rain, nor the
rain the journey, we say they were contingent one
to another. And thus you see that though there
be three sorts of events, necessary, contingent^
and free, yet they may be all necessary without
destruction of the beauty or perfection of the uni-
verse.

To the first argument from reason, which is.

That if liberty he taken away, the nature and

formal reason of sin is taken away ; I answer by

denying the consequence : the nature of sin con-

sisteth in this, that the action done proceed from

s 2

260 LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

our will and be against tlie law. A judge in judg-
iog whether it be sin or no, which is done against
the law, looks at no higher cause of the action,
than the will of the doer. Now when I say the
action was necessary, I do not say it was done
against the will of the doer, but with his will, and
necessarily, because man's will, that is every voli-
tion or act of the will and purpose of man had a
stffficienty and therefore a necessary cause, and
consequently every voluntary action was necessi-
tated. An action therefore may be voluntary and
a sin, and nevertheless be necessary ; and because
God may afflict by a right derived from his omni-
potence, though sin were not, and because the
example of punishment on voluntary sinners, is the
cause that produceth justice, and maketh sin less
frequent, for God to punish such sinners, as I have
said before, is no injustice. And thus you have
my answer to his Lordship's objections both out of
Scripture, and from reason.

CERTAIN DISTINCTIONS, WHICH HIS LORDSHIP SUP-

POSING MIGHT BE BROUGHT TO EVADE HIS

ARGUMENTS, ARE BY HIM REMOVED.

Hk says a man may perhaps answer, that the
necessity of things held by him, is not a stoical
necessity, but a Christian necessity, &c. But this
distinction I have not used, nor indeed ever heard
before, nor could I think any man could make
stoical and Christian two kinds of necessity,
though they may be two kinds of doctrine. Nor
have I drawn my answer to his Lordship*s argu-

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 261

ments from the authority of any sect^ but from the
nature of the things themselves.

But here I must take notice of certain words of
his Lordship's in this place^ as making against his
own tenet. Where all the causes^ saith he, being
joined together j and subordinate one to another ^
do make hut one total cause, if any one cause,
much more the first, in the whole series or subor-r
dination of causes, be necessary, it determines the
rest, and without doubt maketh the effect neces-
sary. For that which I call the necessary cause
of any eflFect, is the joining together of all causes
subordinate to the first, into one total cause. If
any of these ^ saith he, especially the first, pro^
duce its effect necessarily, then all the rest are
determined. Now it is manifest, that the first
cause is a necessary cause of all the eflFects that are
next and immediate to it, and therefore by his
Lordship's own reason all eflfects are necessary.

Nor is that distinction of necessary in respect of
the first cause, and necessary in respect of second
causes, mine ; it does, as his Lordship well notes,
imply a contradiction. But the distinction of free
rnio free from compulsion, zxA free from neces-
sitation, I acknowledge. For to be free from
compulsion is to do a thing so as terror be not the
cause of his will to do it ; for a man is then only
said to be compelled, when fear makes him willing
to it : as when a man willingly throws his goods
into the sea to save himself, or submits to his
enemy for fear of being killed. Thus all men that
do anything for love, or revenge, or lust, are free
from compulsion, and yet their actions may be as
necessary as those that are done by compulsion ;

282 LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

for sometimes other passions work as forcibly as
fear. But free from neeessitatiouj I say, no man
can be^ and it is that which his Lordship undertook
to disprove.

This distinction, his Lordship says, uses to be
fortified by two reasons, but they are not mine.
The first he says, is, that it is granted by all divines,
that an hypothetical necessity ^ or necessity upon
supposition, may stand with liberty. That you
may understand this, I will give you an example of
hypothetical necessity. If / shall live, I shall
eat. This is an hypothetical necessity. Indeed
it is a necessary proposition, that is to say, it is
necessary that that proposition should be true
whensoever uttered, but it is not the necessity of
the thing, nor is it therefore necessary that the
man should live, nor that the man should eat. I
do not use to fortify my distinctions with such
reasons ; let his Lordship confute them how he will,
it contents me ; but I would have your Lordship
take notice hereby, how easy and plain a thing,
but withal fedse, with the grave usage of such terms
as hypothetical necessity, and necessity upon sup-
position, and such like terms of Schoolmen, may be
obscured and made to seem profound learning.

The second reason that may confirm the distinc-
tion of free from compulsion, and free from
neeessitation, he says is, that God and good angels
flo good necessarily, and yet are more free than
fw. This reason, though I had no need of, yet I
think it so far forth good, as it is true that God
and good angels do good necessarily, and yet are
free ; but because I find not in the articles of our
iaith^ nor in the decrees of our church, set down in

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 263

what manner I am to conceive God and good angels
to work by necessity, or in what sense they work
freely^ I suspend my sentence in that point, and
am content that there be a freedom from compute
sion, and yet no freedom from necessitation^ as
hath been proved, in that a man may be necessi-
tated to some action without threats and without
fear of danger. But how my Lord can avoid the
consisting together oi freedom and necessity j sup-
posing God and good angels are freer than men,
and yet do good necessarily, that we must examine :
/ confess, saith he, that God and good angels are
more free than we, that is, intensively in degree
of freedom, not extensively in the latitude of the
object, according to a liberty of exercise not of
specification.

Again, we have here two distinctions that are
no distinctions, but made to seem so by terms
invented by I know not whom to cover ignorance,
and blind the understanding of the reader : for it
cannot be conceived that there is any liberty greater,
than for a man to do what he will. One heat may
be more intensive than another, but not one liberty
than another ; he that can do what he will, hath all
liberty possible, and he that cannot, hath none at
all. Also liberty, as his Lordship says the Schools
call it, of exercise, which is as I have said before,
a liberty to do or not to do, cannot be without a
liberty, which they call, of specification, that is to
say, a liberty to do, or not to do this or that in
particular. For how can a man conceive he hath
liberty to do anything, that hath not liberty to do
this, or that, or somewhat in particular ? If a
man be forbidden in Lent to eat this, and that> and

264 LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

every other particular kind of fleshy how can he be
understood to have a liberty to eat flesh, more
than he that hath no licence at all ? You may by
this again see the vanity of distinctions used in the
Schools^ and I do not doubt but that the imposing
of them, by authority of doctors in the Church,
hath been a great cause that men have laboured,
though by sedition and evil courses, to shake them
off ; for nothing is more apt to beget hatred, than
the tjrrannizing over men's reason and understand-
ing, especially when it is done, not by the Scrip-
tures, but by the pretence of learning, and more
judgment than that of other men.

In the next place his Lordship bringeth two
arguments against distinguishing between free
from compulsion and free from necessitation.

The first is, that election is opposite not only to
coaction or compulsion, but also necessitation or
determination to one. This is it he was to prove
from the beginning, and therefore bringeth no new
argument to prove it ; and to those brought for-
merly, I have already answered. And in this
place I deny again, that election is opposite to
either ; for when a man is compelled, for example,
to subject himself to an enemy or to die, he hath
still election left him, and a deliberation to bethink
which of the two he can better endure. And he
that is led to prison by force, hath election, and
may deliberate whether he will be hauled and
trained on the ground, or make use of his own
feet: likewise when there is no compulsion, but
the strength of temptation to do an evil action,
being greater than the motives to abstain y it neces-
sarily determines him to the doing of it ; yet he

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 265

deliberates while sometimes the motives to doy
sometimes the motives to forbear, are working on
him, and consequently he electeth which he will.
But commonly when we see and know the strength
that moves us, we acknowledge necessity; but
when we see not, or mark not the force that moves
us, we then think there is none, and that it is not
causes but liberty that produceth the action.
Hence it is that they think he does not choose this,
that of necessity chooses it ; but they might as
well say, fire doth not bum, because it burns of
necessity.

The second argument is not so much an argu-
ment as a distinction, to show in what sense it may
be said that voluntary actions are necessitated,
and in what sense not. And therefore his Lord-
ship allegeth, as from the authority of the Schools,
and that which rippeth up the bottom of the ques^
tion, that there is a double act of the will. The
one, he says, is actus imperatus, an act done at
the command of the will, by some inferior faculty
of the soul ; as to open or shut one's eyes ; and this
act may be compelled : the other, he says, is actus
elicitus, an act allured or drawn forth by allure-
ment out of the will, as to will, to choose, to elect ;
this he says cannot be compelled. Wherein, let-
ting pass that metaphorical speech of attributing
command and subjection to the faculties of the
soul, as if they made a commonwealth or family
within themselves, and could speak one to another,
which is very improper in searching the truth of a
question, you may observe, first, that to compel a
voluntary act, is nothing else but to will it ; for it
is all one to say^ my will commands the shutting of

266 LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

my eyes, or the doing of any other action ; and to
say, I have the will to shut my eyes : so that actus
imperatus, here, might as easily have been said in
English a voluntary action, but that they that
invented the term, understood not anything it sig-
nified.

Secondly, you may observe, that actus eiicitus,
is exemplified by these words, to will, to elect, to
choose, which are all one, and so to will is here
made an act of the will ; and indeed as the will is
a faculty or power in a man*s soul, so to will is an
act of it according to that power ; but as it is
absurdly said, that to dance is an act allured or
drawn by fair means out of the ability to dance ;
so is it also to say, that to will is an act allured or
drawn out of the power to wUl, which power is
commonly called the will. Howsoever it be, the
sum of his Lordship's distinction is, that a volun-
tary act may be done by compulsion, that is to
say, by foul means, but to will that, or any act, can-
not be but by allurement^ or fair means. Now
seeing fair means, allurements, and enticements,
produce the action which they do produce, as
necessarily as foul means and threatening; it
follows, that to will may be made as necessary as
anything that is done by compulsion. So that dis-
tinction of actu^ imperatus and actus elicitus are
but words, and of no eflFect against necessity.

His Lordship in the rest of his discourse, reckon-
eth up the opinion of certain professions of men,
touching the causes wherein the necessity of things,
which they maintain, consisteth. And first he
saith, the astrologer deriveth his necessity from
the stars ; secondly, that the physician attributeth

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 267

it to the temper of the body. For my part, I am
not of their opinion^ because, neither the stars
alone, nor the temperature of the patient alone, is
able to produce any eflfect, without the concurrence
of all other agents. For there is hardly any one
action, how casual soever it seem, to the causing
whereof concur not whatsoever is in rerum naturd,
which because it is a great paradox, and depends
on many antecedent speculations, I do not press in
this place. Thirdly, he disputeth against the opi-
nion of them that say, external objects presented
to men of such and such temperatures, do make
their actions necessary ; and says, the power such
objections have over us, proceeds from our own
fault : but that is nothing to the purpose, if such
fault of ours proceedeth from causes not in our
own power, and therefore that opinion may hold
true for all that answer.

Further he says, prayer, /lasting, &c. may alter
our habits ; it is true, but when they do so, they
are causes of the contrary habit, and make it neces-
sary, as the former habit had been necessary, if
prayer, fasting, &c. had not been. Besides, we
are not moved or disposed to prayer or any other
action, but by outward objects, as pious company,
godly preachers, or something equivalent. Fourthly,
he says a resolved mind is not easily surprised, as
the mind of Ulysses, who when others wept, alone
wept not ; and of the philosopher, that abstained
from striking, because he found himself angry ;
and of him that POW ed out the water when he was
thirsty, and the Vm, Such things I confess have,
or may have been done, and do prove only that it
was not necessary for Ulysses then to weep, nor

268 LIBERTY AND NECESSITY,

for that philosopher to strike, nor for that other
man to drink ; but it does not prove that it Tvas
not necessary for Ulysses then to abstain, as he
did, from weeping, nor for the philosopher to
abstain, as he did, from striking, nor for the other
man to forbear drinking, and yet that was the thing
his Lordship ought to have proved. Lastly his
Lordship confesses, that the dispositions of objects
may be dangerous to liberty y\mt cannot be destruc-
tive. To which I answer, it is impossible: for
liberty is never in any other danger than to be
lost ; and if it cannot be lost, which he confesses, I
may infer, it can be in no danger at alL

The fourth opinion his Lordship rejecteth, is of
them that make the will necessarily to follow the
last dictate of the imderstanding ; but it seems his
Lordship understands that tenet in another sense
than I do ; for he speaketh as if they that held it,
did suppose men must dispute the sequel of every
action they do, great and small, to the least grain ;
which is a thing his Lordship, with reason, thinks
untrue. But I understand it to signify, that the
will follows the last opinion or judgment imme-
diately preceding the action, concerning whether
it be good to do it or not, whether he have weighed
it long before, or not at all, and that I take to be
the meaning of them that hold it. As for example,
when a man strikes, his will to strike follows neces-
sarily that thought he had of the sequel of his
stroke, immediately before the lifting up of his
hand. Now if it be understood in that sense, the
last dictate of the understanding does necessitate
the action, though not as the whole cause, yet as
the last cause, as the last feather necessitates the

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 269

breaking of a horse's back, when there are so many
laid on before, as there needed but the addition of
one to make the weight sufficient.

That which his Lordship allegeth against this,
is first, out of a poet, who in the person of Medea
says,

" Video meliora, proboque,
Deteriora sequor.'^

But that saying, as pretty as it is, is not true ; for
though Medea saw many reasons to forbear killing
her children, yet the last dictate of her judgment
was, that the present revenge on her husband out-
weighed them all, and thereupon the wicked action
necessarily followed. Then the story of the Roman,
who of two competitors, said, one had the better
reason, but the other must have the office. This
also raaketh against his Lordship, for the last dic-
tate of his judgment that had the bestowing of the
office, was this, that it was better to take a great
bribe, than reward a great merit.

Thirdly, he objects that things nearer the sense,
move more powerfully than reason ; what foUoweth
thence but this, the sense of the present good
is commonly more immediate to the action, than
the foresight of the evil consequence to come ?
Fourthly, whereas his Lordship says, that do what a
man can, he shall sorrow more for the death of his
son than for the sin of his soul, makes nothing to
the last dictate of the imderstanding ; but it argues
plainly, that sorrow for sin is not voluntary ^ and
by consequence, that repentance proceedeth from
causes.

The last part of this discourse containeth his
Lordship's opinions about reconciling liberty with

■7

270 LIBERTY AND NECB881TY.

the prescience and decrees of God^ otherwise than
some divines have done, against whom, he says,
he had formerly written a treatise, out of which he
repeateth only two things : one is. That we ought
not to desert a certain truth, for not being able
to comprehend the certain manner of it. And
I say the same, as for example, that his Lordship
ought not to desert this certain truth, that there
are certain and necessary causes which make every
man to will what he willethy though he do not yet
conceive in what manner the will of man is caused.
And yet I think the manner of it is not very hard
to conceive, seeing we see daily, that praise, dis-
praise, reward, and punishment, good and evil,
sequels of men's actions retained in memory, do
frame and make us to the election of whatsoever it
be that we elect, and that the memory of such
things proceeds from the senses, and sense from
the operation of the objects of sense, which are ex-
ternal to us, and governed only by God Almighty ;
and by consequence all actions, even of free and
voluntary agents, are necesssary.

The other thing that he repeateth, is, that the
best way to reconcile contingence and liberty with
prescience and the decrees of God, is to subject
future contingencies to the aspect of God. The
same is also my opinion, but contrary to what his
Lordship all this while laboured to prove. For
hitherto he held liberty and necessity, that is to
say, liberty and the decrees of Go£/,irreconcileable,
unless the aspect of God, which word appeareth
now the first time in this discourse, signify some-
what else besides God's will and decree, which
I cannot understand. But he adds that we must

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 271

subject them^ according to that presentiality which
they have in eternity, which he says cannot be done
by them that conceive eternity to be an everlasting
succession, but only by them that conceive it as
an indivisible point. To which I answer^ that as
soon as I can conceive eteriiity to be an indivisible
point, or anything but an everlasting succession,
I will renounce all that I have written on this sub-
ject. I know St. Thomas Aquinas calls eternity,
nunc stans, an ever-abiding now ; which is easy
enough to say, but though I fain would, yet I could
never conceive it : they that can, are more happy
than L But in the mean time his Lordship alloweth
all men to be of my opinion, save only those that
can conceive in their minds a nunc stans, which
I think are none. I understand as little how it can
be true his Lordship says, that God is not just, but
justice itself ; not wise, but wisdom itself ; not eter--
wa/, but eterwi/y itself ; nor how he concludes thence,
that eternity is a point indivisible, and not a suc^
cession, nor in what sense it can be said, that an
infinite point, and wherein is no succession, can
comprehend all time, though time be successive.
These phrases I find not in the Scripture ; I wonder
therefore what was the design of the Schoolmen
to bring them up, unless they thought a man could
not be a true Christian unless his understanding be
first strangled with such hard sayings. And thus
much for answer to his Lordship's discourse, wherein
I think not only his squadrons of arguments, but
also his reserve of distinctions, are defeated. And
now your Lordship shall have my doctrine concern-
ing the same question, with my reasons for it,
positively, and as briefly as I can, without any
terms of (frt, in plain English.

i

272 LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

MY OPINION ABOUT LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

First I conceive, that when it cometh into a man's
mind to do or not to do some certain action, if he
have no time to deliberate, the doing it or abstain-
ing necessarily follow the J9r^^^/i/ thought he hath
of the good or evil consequence thereof to himself.
As for example, in sudden angery the action shall
follow the thought of revenge; in sudden Jear,
the thought of escape. Also when a man hath
time to deliberate^ but deliberates not, because
never anything appeared that could make him
doubt of the consequence, the action follows his
opinion of the goodness or harm of it. These
actions I call voluntary, my Lord, if I under-
stand him aright that calls them spontaneous.
I call them voluntary, because those actions that
follow immediately the last appetite, are voluntary,
and here where is one only appetite, that one is the
last. Besides, I see it is reasonable to punish a
rash action, which could not be justly done by
man to man, unless the same were voluntary. For
no actio7i of a man can be said to be without deli-
beration, though never so sudden, because it is
supposed he had time to deliberate all the prece-
dent time of his life, whether he should do that
kind of action or not. And hence it is, that he
that killeth in a sudden passion of anger, shall
nevertheless be justly put to death, because all the
time, wherein he was able to consider whether to
kill were good or evil, shall be held for one con-
tinual deliberation, and consequently the killing
shall be judged to proceed from election.

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 273

Secondly^ I conceive when a man deliberates
whether he shall do a thing or not do it, that he
does nothing else but consider whether it be better
for himself to do it or not to do it. And to consider
an action, is to imagine the consequences of it, both
good and evil. From whence is to be inferred,
that deliberation is nothing else but alternate
imagination of the good and evil sequels of an
action, or, which is the same thing, alternate hope
and Jear, or alternate appetite to do or quit the
action of which he deliberateth.

Thirdly, I conceive that in all deliberations, that
is to say, in all alternate succession of contrary
appetites, the last is that which we call the will,
and is immediately next before the doing of the
action, or next before the doing of it become im-
possible. All other appetites to do, and to quit,
that come upon a man during his deliberations,
are called intentiofis and inclinations, but not wills,
there being but one will, which also in this case
may be called the last will, though the intentions
change often.

Fourthly, I conceive that those actions, which
a man is said to do upon deliberation, are said to
be voluntary, and done apon choice and election,
so that voluntary action, and action proceeding
from election is the same thing ; and that of a
voluntary agent, it is all one to say, he is free, and
to say, he hath not made an end of deliberating.

Fifthly, I conceive liberty to be rightly defined
in this manner : Liberty is the absence of all the
impediments to action that are not contained in
the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent.
As for example, the water is said to descend freely,

VOL. iv. T

274 LIBERTY AND NBCBS8ITT.

or to have liberty to descend by the channel of
the river^ because there is no impedunent that way^
but not across, because the banks are impediments.
And though the water cannot ascend^ yet men
never say it wants the liberty to ascend, but the
faculty or power ^ because the impediment is in the
nature of the water, and intrinsical. So also we
say, he that is tied, wants the liberty to go, be-
cause the impediment is not in him, but in his
bands ; whereas we say not so of him that is sick
or lame, because the impediment is in himself.

Sixthly, I conceive that nothing taketh beginning
from itself, but from the action of some other
immediate agent without itself. And that there-
fore, when first a man hath an appetite or will to
something, to which immediately before he had no
appetite nor will, the cause of his will, is not the
will itself, but something else not in his own dis-
posing. So that whereas it is out of controversy,
that of voluntary actions the will is the necessary
cause, and by this which is said, the will is also
caused by other things whereof it disposeth not, it
fblloweth, that voluntary actions have all of them
necessary causes, and therefore are necessitated.

Seventhly, I hold that to be a sufficient cause,
to which nothing is wanting that is needful to the
producing of the ^ect. The same also is a neces*
sary cause. For if it be possible that a sufficient
cause shall not bring forth the effect, then there
wanteth somewhat which was needful to the pro-
ducing of it, and so the cause was not sufficient ;
but if it be impossible that a sufficient cause should
not produce the qffect, then is a sufficient cause a
necessary cause, for that is said to produce an

k

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 275

effect necessarily that cannot but produce it.
Hence it is manifest^ that whatsoever is produced,
is produced necessarily ; for whatsoever is pro-
duced hath had a stffficient cause to produce it, or
else it had not been ; and therefore also voluntary
actions are necessitated^

Lastly, that ordinary definition of a Jree agent,
namely, that a free agent is that, which, when all
things are present which are needful to produce
the effect, can nevertheless not produce it, implies
a contradiction^ and is nonsense ; being as much
as to say, the cause may be sufficient, that is to say,
necessary, and yet the effect shall not follow.

MY REASONS.

For the first five points, wherein it is explicated
I, what spontaneity is ; ii, what deliberation is ;
III, what will, propension, and appetite are ; iv,
what a Jree agent is : v, what liberty is ; there
can no other proof be offered but every man's
own experience, by reflection on himself, and
remembering what he useth in his mind, that is,
what he himself meaneth when he saith an action
is spontaneous, a man deliberates ; such is his
will, that agent or that action is Jree. Now he
that reflecteth so on himself, cannot but be satis-
fied, that deliberation is the consideration of the
good and evil sequels of an action to come ; that
by spontaneity is meant inconsiderate action, or
else nothing is meant by it ; that will is the last
act of our deliberation ; that a free agent is he
that can do if he will, and forbear if he will ;
and that liberty is the absence of external impe-

T 2

276 LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.

diments. But to those that out of custom speak
not what they conceive, but what they hear, and
are not able, or will not take the pains to consider
what they think when they hear such words, no
argument can be sufficient, because experience
and matter of fact are not verified by other men's
arguments, but by every man's own sense and
memory. For example, how can it be proved that
to love a thing and to think it good is all one, to a
man that doth not mark his own meaning by those
words ? Or how can it be proved that eternity is
not nunc stans to a man that says those words by
custom, and never considers how he can conceive
the thing in his mind ?

Also the sixth point, that a man cannot imagine
anything to begin without a cause^ can no other
way be made known, but by trying how he can
imagine it ; but if he try, he shall find as much
reason, if there be no cause of the thing, to con-
ceive it should begin at one time as another, that
he hath equal reason to think it should begin at all
times, which is impossible, and therefore he must
think there was some special cause why it began
then, rather than sooner or later ; or else that it
began never, but was eternal.

For the seventh point, which is, that all events
have necessary causes, it is there proved, in that
they have sufficient causes. Further let us in this
place also suppose any event never so casual, as
the throwing, for example, atnes ace upon a pair
of dice, and see, if it must not have been necessary
before it was thrown. For seeing it was thrown,
it had a beginning, and consequently a sufficient
cause to produce it, consisting partly in the dice,
partly in outward things, as the posture of the

LIBERTY AND NECESSITY. 277

parts of the handj the measure oi force applied
by the caster, the posture of the parts of the table,
and the like. In sum, there was nothing wanting
which was necessarily requisite to the producing
of that particular cast, and consequently the cast
was necessarily thrown ; for if it had not been
thrown, there had wanted somewhat requisite to
the throwing of it, and so the cause had not been
sufficient. In the like manner it may be proved
that every other accident, how contingent soever it
seem, or how voluntary soever it be, is produced
necessarily y which is that that my Lord Bishop
disputes against. The same may be proved also in
this manner. Let the case be put, for example, of
the weather. // is necessary that to-morrow it
shall rain or not rain. If therefore it be not ne^
cessary it shall rain, it is necessary it shall not
rain, otherwise there is no necessity that the pro-
position, it shall rain or not rain, should be true.
I know there be some that say, it may necessarily
be true that one of the two shall come to pass, but
not, singly that it shall rain, or that it shall not
rain, which is as much to say, one of them is neces^
sary, yet neither of them is necessary ; and there-
fore to seem to avoid that absurdity, they make a
distinction, that neither of them is true determi-
nate, but indeterminate ; which distinction either
signifies no more but this, one of them is true, but
we know not which, and so the necessity remains,
though we know it not ; or if the meaning of the
distinction be not that, it hath no meaning, and
they might as well have said, one of them is true
Titirice, but neither of them, Tu patulice.

The last thing, in which also consisteth the whole
controversy, namely that there is no such thing as

278 UBBRTT AND NECESSITY.

an agent^ which when all things requisite to action
are present^ can nevertheless forbear to produce
it : OTy which is all one, that there is no such thing
as freedom from necessity ^ is easily inferred from
that which hath been before allied. For if it be
an agent y it canirorAr ; and if it work^ there is nothing
wanting of what is requisite to produce the action,
and consequently the cause of the action is st^ffi-
cient; and if si^fficient, then also necessary, as hath
been proved before.

And thus you see how the inconveniences, which
his Lordship objecteth must follow upon the holding
of necessity, are avoided, and the necessity itself
demonstratively proved. To which I could add^ if
I thought it good logic, the inconvenience of deny-
ing necessity, as that it destroyeth both the decrees
and the prescience of God Almighty ; for whatso-
ever God hath purposed to bring to pass by man,
as an instrument, or foreseeth shall come to pass ;
a man, if he have liberty, such as his Lordship
affirmeth, from necessitation, might frustrate, and
make not to come to pass, and God should either
not foreknow it, and not decree it, or he should
foreknow such things shall be, as shall never be,
and decree that which shall never come to pass.

This is all that hath come into my mind touching
this question since I last considered it. And I hum-
bly beseech your Lordship to communicate it only to
my Lord Bishop. And so praying God to prosper
your Lordship in all your designs, I take leave, and
am. My most noble and most obliging Lord,

Your most humble servant,

RoueD, Aug. 20, 1652.* ThOMAS HobbES.

* In the first edition of 1654 this date is 1646.

AN

ANSWER

TO A BOOK PUBLISHED BY

DR. BRAMHAIX,

LATE BISHOP OF DERRT ;
CALLED THE

« CATCHING OF THE LEVIATHAN."

TOaSTHSB WITH AN

HISTORICAL NARRATION CONCERNING

HERESY,

AND THE PUNISHMENT THEREOF.

TO THE READER.

As in all things which I have written, so also in
this piece, I have endeavoured all I can to be per-
spicuous; but yet your own attention is always
necessary. The late Lord Bishop of Deny pub-
lished a book called The Catching of the Leviathan^
in which he hath put together divers sentences
picked out of my Leviathan^ which stand there
plainly and firmly proved, and sets them down
without their proofs, and without the order of
their dependance one upon another; and calls them
atheism, blasphemy, impiety, subversion of religion,
and by other names of that kind. My request unto
you is, that when he cites my words for erroneous,
you will be pleased to turn to the place itself, and
see whether they be well proved, and how to be
understood. Which labour his Lordship might
have saved you, if he would have vouchsafed as
well to have weighed my arguments before you, as
to have shown you my conclusions. His book con-
taineth two chapters, the one concerning Religion,

TO THB READER.

the Other concerning Politics. Because he does not
so much as offer any refutation of any thing in my
Leviathan concluded, I needed not to have an-
swered either of them. Yet to the first I here
answer, because the words atheism^ impiety, and
the like, are words of the greatest defamation pos-
sible. And this I had done sooner, if I had sooner
known that such a book was extant. He wrote it
ten years since, and yet I never heard of it till about
three months since ; so little talk there was of his
Lordship*s writings. If you want leisure or care
of the questions between us, I pray you condemn
me not upon report. To judge and not examine
is not just.

Farewell.

T. HOBBES.

AN ANSWER,

£TC.

THAT THE HOBBIAN PRINCIPLES ARE DESTRUCTIVE TO
CHRISTIANITY AND ALL RELIGION.

J. D. The image of God is not altogether defaced
by the fall of man^ but that there will remain some
practical notions of God and goodness ; which when
the mind is free from vagrant desires, and violent
passions, do shine as clearly in the heart, as other
speculative notions do in the head. Hence it is,
that there was never any nation so barbarous or
savage throughout the whole world, which had not
their God. They who did never wear clothes upon
their backs, who did never know magistrate but
their father, yet have their God, and their religious
rights and devotions to him. Hence it is, that the
greatest atheists in any sudden danger do unwit-
tingly cast their eyes up to heaven, as craving aid
from thence, and in a thunder creep into some hole
to hide themselves. And they who are conscious
to themselves of any secret crimes, though they be
secure enough from the justice of men, do yet feel
the blind blows of a guilty conscience, and fear
Divine vengeance. This is acknowledged by T. H.
himself in his lucid intervals. That we may know
what worship of God natural reason doth assign,
let us begin with his attributeSy where it is mani-

284 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

fest in the first place, that exUtency is to he
attributed to him. To which he addeth, infinite-
ness, incomprehensibility J unity, ubiquity. Thus
for attributes ; next for actions. Concerning exter-
nal actions, wherewith God is to be worshipped,
the most general precept of reason is, that they
be signs of honour ; under which are contained
prayers, thanksgivings, oblations, and sacrifices.

T. H. Hitherto his Lordship discharges me of
atheism. What need he to say that aU nations,
how barbarous soever, yet have their Gods and
religious rites, and atheists are frighted with
thunder, and feel the blind blows of conscience ?
It might have been as apt a preface to any other of
his discourses as this. I expect therefore in the
next place to be told, that I deny again my afore-
recited doctrine.

/. D. Yet, to let us see how inconsistent and irre-
concileable he is with himself, elsewhere reckoning
up all the laws of nature at large, even twenty in
number, he hath not one word that concemeth re-
ligion, or hath the le.ast relation in the world to
God. As if a man were like the colt of a wild ass
in the wilderness, without any owner or obligation.
Thus in describing the laws of nature, this great
clerk forgetteth the God of nature, and the main
and principal laws of nature, which contain a
man's duty to his God, and the principal end of
his creation.

T. H. After I had ended the discourse he men-
tions of the laws of nature, I thought it fittest in
the last place, once for all, to say they were the
laws of God, then when they were delivered in the
word of God ; but before, being not known by men

Ik

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 285

for any thing but their own natural reason, they
were but theorems, tending to peace, and those un-
certain, as being but conclusions of particular men,
and therefore not properly laws. Besides, I had
formerly in my book De Cive^ cap. iv, proved
them severally, one by one, out of the Scriptures :
which his Lordship had read and knew. It was
therefore an unjust charge of his to say, I had not
one word in them that concerns religion, or that
hath the least relation in the world to God ; and
this upon no other ground than that I added not
to every article, this law is in the Scripture. But
why he should call me (ironically) a great clerk,
I cannot tell. I suppose he would make men be-
lieve, I arrogated to myself all the learning of a
great clerk, bishop, or other inferior minister. A
learned bishop, is that bishop that can interpret
all parts of Scripture truly, and congruently to the
harmony of the whole ; that has learnt the history
and laws of the Church, down from the apostles'
time to his own ; and knows what is the nature of
a law civil, divine, natural, and positive ; and how
to govern well the parochial ministers of his dio-
cese, so that they may both by doctrine and example
keep the people in the belief of all articles of faith
necessary to salvation, and in obedience to the laws
of their country. This is a learned bishop. A
learned minister, is he that hath learned the way
by which men may be drawn from avarice, pride,
sensuality, profaneness, rebellious principles, and
all other vices, by eloquent and powerful disgracing
of them, both from Scripture and from reason ; and
can terrify men from vice, by discreet uttering of
the punishments denounced against wicked men.

286 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

and by deducing, rationally, the damage they re-
ceive by it in the end. In one word, he is a learned
minister that can preach such sermons as St. Chry-
sostom preached to the Antiochians, when he was
presbyter in that city. Could his Lordship find in
my book, that I arrogated to myself the eloquence
or wisdom of St. Chrysostom, or the ability of go-
verning the church ? It is one thing to know what
is to be done, another thing to know how to do it.
But his Lordship was pleased to use any artifice to
disgrace me in any kind whatsoever.

/. 2). Perhaps he will say that he handleth the
laws of nature there, only so far as may serve to
the constitution or settlement of a commonwealth.
In good time, let it be so. Me hath devised us a
trim commonwealth, which is founded neither upon
religion towards God, nor justice towards man ; but
merely upon self-interest, and self-preservation.
Those rays of heavenly light, those natural seeds
of religion, which God himself hath imprinted in
the heart of man, are more efficacious towards
preservation of a society, whether we regard the
nature of the thing, or the blessing of God, than
all his pactSy and surrenders^ and translations of
power. He who unteacheth men their duty to
God, may make them eye-servants, so long as their
interest doth oblige them to obey ; but is no fit
master to teach men conscience and fidelity.

T. H. He has not yet found the place where I
contradict either the existence, or infiniteness, or
incomprehensibility, or unity, or ubiquity of God.
I am therefore yet absolved of atheism. But I am,
he says, inconsistent and irreconcileable with my-
self; that is, I am (though he says not so) he thinks.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 287

a forgetful ' blockhead. I cannot help that: but
my forgetfulness appears not here. Even his Lord-
ship, where he says, " those rays of heavenly lights
those seeds of religion, which God himself hath
imprinted in the heart of man (meaning natural
reason), are more efficacious to the preservation of
society, than all the pacts, surrenders^ and trans-
lating of power J*' had forgotten to except the old
pact of the Jews, and the new pact of Christians.
But pardoning that, did he hope to make any wise
man believe, that when this nation very lately was
an anarchy, and dissolute multitude of men, doing
every one what his own reason or imprinted light
suggested, they did again out of the same light call
in the king, and peace again, and ask pardon for
the faults, which that their illumination had brought
them into, rather than out of fear of perpetual dan-
ger and hope of preservation ?

t/. D. Without religion, societies are like but
soapy bubbles, quickly dissolved. It was the judg-
ment of as wise a man as T. H. himself, though
perhaps he will hardly be persuaded to it, that
Rome owed more of its grandeur to religion, than
either to strength or stratagems. We have not
exceeded the Spaniards in number, nor the Gauls
in strength, nor the Carthaginians in craft, nor
the Grecians in art, Sfc. hut we have overcome all
nations hy our piety and religion.

T. H. Did not his Lordship forget himself here
again, in approving this sentence of Tully, which
makes the idolatry of the Romans, not only better
than the idolatry of other nations ; but also better
than the religion of the Jews, whose law Christ
himself says he came not to destroy but to fulfil ?

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lis Ldrifaaio waft bi infs piaee (kserted of dhe

Jl i>. x-wiTnar ^ jk«^ ae iitieneck grmliimde to

jft :3e ?airi preecpc of r^e ikw d nature ; but
df ::^ girxiiy :f nankfnrt to cneir Creator, there
» a ii*eQ sTenire. If men had spnzne up from the
earth in i ulrnic. Ifke mQ^^hrocms or excrescences,
widti:!!:: aH ^ecae of honoar. jo&tice, conscience, or
sratinx«ie. he coold not have vilified the human
nacnre more than he doth.

T. U. My Lord discovers here an ignorance of
such method as is necessarv for lawful and strict
reasoning, and explication of the truth in con-
troversy. And not only that, but also how little
able he is to fix his mind upon what he reads in
other men's writings. AVhen I had defined ingra-
titude universally, he finds fault that I do not men-
tion ingratitude towards God, as if his Lordship
knew not that an universal comprehends all the
particulars. AVhen I had defined equity universally,
why did he not as well blame me for not telling

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 289

what that equity is in God ? He is grateful to the
man of whom he receives a good turn, that con-
fesseth, or maketh appear he is pleased . with the
benefit he receiveth. So also gratitude towards
God is to confess his benefits. There is also, in
gratitude towards men, a desire to requite their
benefits ; so there is in our gratitude towards God,
so far to requite them, as to be kind to God's mi-
nisters, which I acknowledged in making sacrifices
a part of natural divine worship ; and the benefit
of those sacrifices is the nourishment of God's mi-
nisters. It appears therefore, that the bishop's
attention in reading my writings, was either weak
in itself, or weakened by prejudice.

f/. D. From this shameful omission or pretention
of the main duty of mankind, a man might easily
take the height of T. H. his religion. But he him-
self putteth it past all conjectures. His principles
are brim full of prodigious impiety. In these four
things, opinions of ghosts, ignorance of second
causes, devotion to what men fear, and taking of
things casual for prognostics, consisteth the na-
tural seed of religion ; the culture and improve-
ment whereof, he referreth only to policy. Human
and divine politics, are but politics. And again,
mankind hath this from the conscience of their own
weakness, and the admiration of natural events,
that the most part of men believe that there is an
invisible God, the maker of all visible things. And
a little after he telleth us, that superstition pro-
ceedeth from fear without right reason, and
atheism from an opinion of reason without fear ;
making atheism to be more reasonable than su-
perstition. What is now become of that divine

VOL. IV. u

290 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

worship which nataral reason did assign unto God^
the honour of existence, infiniteness, incomprehen-
sibility, unity, ubiquity ? What is now become
of that dictate or precept of reason, concerning
prayers^ thanksgivings^ oblations, sacrifices, if
uncertain opinions, ignorance, fear, mistakes, the
conscience of our own weakness, and the admira-
tion of natural events, be the only seeds of religion ?
He proceedeth further, that atheism itself, though
it be an erroneous opinion, and therefore a sin, yet
it ought to be numbered among the sins of impru-
dence or ignorance. He addeth, that an atheist
is punished not as a subject is punished by his
king, because he did not observe laws : but as an
enemy, by an enemy, because he would not accept
laws. His reason is, because the atheist never
submitted his will to the will of God, whom he
never thought to he. And he concludeth that man's
obligation to obey God proceedeth from his weak-
ness, {De Cive, xv. 7 ' vol. ii. p. 336): Manifestum
est obligationem ad prestandam ipsi {Deo) obe-
dientiam, incumbere hominibus propter imbecili-
tatem. First, it is impossible that should be a sin of
mere ignorance or imprudence, which is directly con-
trary to the light of natural reason. The laws of
nature need no new promulgation, being imprinted
naturally by God in the heart of man. The law of
nature was written in our hearts by the finger of
God, without our assent ; or rather, the law of na-
ture is the assent itself. Then if nature dictate to
us that there is a God, and that this God is to be
worshipped in such and such a manner, it is not pos-
sible that atheism should be a sin of mere ignorance.
Secondly, a rebellious subject is still a subject

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 291

de jure, though not de facto ; by right, though not
by deed : and so the most cursed atheist that is,
ought by right to be the subject of God, and ought
to be punished not as a just enemy, but as a dis-
loyal traitor. Which is confessed by himself : this
fourth sin (that is, of those who do not by word
and deed confess one God, the supreme King of
Kings) in the natural kingdom of God is the crime
of high treason, for it is a denial of Divine power,
or atheism. Then an atheist is a traitor to God, and
punishable as a disloyal subject, not as an enemy.

Lastly, it is an absurd and dishonourable asser-
tion, to make our obedience to God to depend upon
our weakness, because we cannot help it, and not
upon our gratitude, because we owe our being and
preservation to him. Who planteth a vineyard,
and eateth not of the fruit thereof? And who
feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the
flK)ck ? And again. Thou art worthy, O Lord, to
receive glory, and honour and power; for thou
hast created all things, and for thy pleasure
they are and were created. But it were much
better, or at least not so ill, to be a downright
atheist, than to make God to be such a thing as he
doth, and at last thrust him into the Devil's ofl&ce,
to be the cause of all sin.

T. H. Though this bishop, as I said, had but a
weak attention in reading, and little skill in examin-
ing the force of an argument, yet he knew men,
and the art, without troubling their judgments, to
win their assents by exciting their passions. One
rule of his art was to give his reader what he would
have him swallow, a part by itself, and in the nature
of news, whether true or not. Knowing that the

u 2

292 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

unlearned, that is most men, are content to believe,
rather than be troubled with examining, therefore,
a little before, he put these words, T. H. no friend
to religion^ in the margin. And in this place,
before he offer at any confutation, he says my prin-
ciples are brim lull of prodigious impieties. And
at the next paragraph, in the margin, he puts that
/ excuse atheism. This behaviour becomes neither
a bishop, nor a Christian, nor any man that pre-
tends to good education. Fear of invisible powers,
what is it else in savage people, but the fear of
somewhat they think a God ? What invisible power
does the reason of a savage man suggest unto him,
but those phantasms of his sleep, or his distemper,
which we frequently call ghosts, and the savages
thought gods ; so that the fear of a God, though
not of the true one, to them was the beginning of
religion, as the fear of the true God was the be-
ginning of wisdom to the Jews and Christians ?
Ignorance of second causes made men fly to some
first cause, the fear of which bred devotion and
worship. The ignorance of what that power might
do, made them observe the order of what he had
done ; that they might guess by the like order,
what he was to do another time. This was their
prognostication. What prodigious impiety is here?
How confutes he it ? Must it be taken for im-
piety upon his bare calumny ? I said superstition
was fear without reason. Is not the fear of a false
God, or fancied demon, contrary to right reason ?
And is not atheism boldness gi'ounded on false
reasoning, such as is this, the wicked prosper^
therefore there is no God ? He offers no proof
against any of this ; but says only I make atheism

1^

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 293

to be more reasonable than superstition ; which is
not true : for I deny that there is any reason either
in the atheist or in the superstitious. And because
the atheist thinks he has reason, where he has none,
I think him the more irrational of the two. But
all this while he argues not against any of this ;
but enquires only, what is become of my natural
worship of God, and of his existency ; infiniteness,
incomprehensibility, unity, and ubiquity. As if
whatsoever reason can suggest, must be suggested
all at once. First, all men by nature had an opinion
of God's existency ; but of his other attributes not
so soon, but by reasoning, and by degrees. And
for the attributes of the true God, they were never
suggested but by the Word of God written. In that
I say atheism is a sin of ignorance, he says I ex-
cuse it. The prophet David says, the fool hath
said in his heart, there is no God. Is it not then
a sin of folly ? It is agreed between us, that right
reason dictates, there is a God. Does it not follow,
that denying of God is a sin proceeding from mis-
reasoning. If it be not a sin of ignorance, it must
be a sin of malice. Can a man malice that which
he thinks has no being ? But may not one think
there is a God, and yet maliciously deny him ? If
he think there is a God, he is no atheist ; and so
the question is changed into this, whether any man
that thinks there is a God, dares deliberately deny
it ? For my part I think not. For upon what
confidence dares any man, deliberately I say, oppose
the Omnipotent ? David saith of himself, My feet
were ready to slip when I saw the prosperity of
the wicked. Therefore it is likely the feet of men
less holy slip oftener. But I think no man living

294 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

is SO daring, being out of passion^ as to hold it as
his opinion. Those wicked men that for a long
time proceeded so successfiilly in the late horrid
rebellion, may perhaps make some think they were
constant and resolved atheists : but I think rather
that they forgot God, than believed there was none.
He that believes there is such an atheist, comes a
little too near that opinion himself ; nevertheless if
words spoken in passion signify a denial of a God,
no punishment preordained by law, can be too great
for such an insolence ; because there is no living
in a commonwealth with men, to whose oaths we
cannot reasonably give credit. As to that I say, an
atheist is punished hy God not as a subject hy his
kingi hut as an enemy ; and to my argument for it,
namely, because he never acknowleged himself
God's subject, he opposeth, that if nature dictate
that there is a God, and to be worshipped in such
and such manner, then atheism is not a sin of mere
ignorance : as if either I or he did hold that nature
dictates the manner of God's worship, or any article
of our creed, or whether to worship with or with-
out a surplice. Secondly, he answers that a rebel
is still a subject rfi^^'wr^, though not de facto: and
it is granted. But though the king lose none of
his right by the traitor's act, yet the traitor loseth
the privilege of being punished by a precedent law;
and therefore may be punished at the king's will,
as Ravaillac was for murdering Henry IV of France.
An open enemy and a perfidious traitor are both
enemies. Had not his Lordship read in the Roman
story, how Perseus and other just enemies of that
state were wont to be punished ? But what is this
trifling question to my excusing of atheism ? In

b.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 295

the seventh paragraph of chapter xv. of my book
De Cive, he found the words in Latin, wliich he here
citeth. And to the same sense I have said in my
Leviathan, that the right of nature whereby God
reigneth over men, is to be derived not from his
creating them, as if he required obedience, as of
gratitude ; but from his irresistible power. This
he says is absurd and dishonourable. Whereas first
all power is honourable, and the greatest power is
most honourable. Is it not a more noble tenure
for a king to hold his kingdom, and the right to
punish those that transgress his laws, from his
power, than from the gratitude or gift of the trans-
gressor. There is nothing therefore here of dis-
honour to God Almighty. But see the subtilty of
his disputing. He saw he could not catch Leviathan
in this place, he looks for him in my book De Cive,
which is Latin, to try what he could fish out of
that : and says I make our obedience to God, depend
upon our weakness ; as if these words signified the
dependence, and not the necessity of our submis-
sion, or that incumbere and dependere were all one.
J. D. For T. H. his God is not the God of
Christians, nor of any rational men. Our God is
every where, and seeing he hath no parts, he must
be wholly here, and wholly there, and wholly every
where. So nature itself dictateth. // cannot he
said honourably of God that he is in a place ; for
nothing is in a place, but that which hath proper
bounds of its greatness. But T. H. his God is not
wholly every where. No man can conceive that
any thing is all in this place, and all in another
place at the same time, for none of these things
ever have or can be incident to sense. So far well,

296 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

if by conceiving he mean comprehending; but
then follows, That these are absurd speeches taken
upon credit^ without any signification at all^Jrom
deceived philosophers ^ and deceived or deceiving
Schoolmen. Thus he denieth the ubiquity of God.
A circumscriptive, a definitive, and a repletive
being in a place, is some heathen language to him.
T. H. Though I believe the omnipotence of God,
and that he can do what he will, yet I dare not say
how every thing is done, because I cannot conceive
nor comprehend either the Divine substance, or the
way of its operation. And I think it impiety to
speak concerning God any thing of my own head,
or upon the authority of philosophers or School-
men, which I understand not, without warrant in
the Scripture : and what I say of omnipotence, I
say also of ubiquity. But his Lordship is more
valiant in this place, telling us that God is wholly
here, and wholly there, and wholly every where ;
because he has no parts. I cannot comprehend
nor conceive this. For methinks it implies also
that the whole world is also in the whole God, and
in every part of God. Nor can I conceive how
any thing can be called whole, which has no parts,
nor can I find anything of this in the Scripture.
If I could find it there, I could believe it ; and if I
could find it in the public doctrine of the Church,
I could easily abstain from contradicting it. The
Schoolmen say also, that the soul of man (meaning
his upper soul, which they call the rational soul)
is also wholly in the whole man, and wholly in
every part of the man. What is this, but to make
the human soul the same thing in respect of man's
body, that God is in respect of the world ? These

k.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 297

his Lordship calls here rational men, and some of
them which applaud this doctrine, would have the
high court of parliament corroborate such doctrines
with a law. I said in my Leviathan^ that it is no
honourable attribute to God, to say he is in a place j
because infinite is not confined within a place.
To which he replies, T. H. his God is not wholly
every where. I confess the consequence. For I
understand in English^ he that says any thing to
be all here^ means that neither all nor any of the
same thing is elsewhere. He says further, I take
a circumscriptive J a definitive, and a repletive
being in a place to be heathen language. Truly,
if this dispute were at the bar, I should go near to
crave the assistance of the court, lest some trick
might be put upon me in such obscurity. For
though I know what these Latin words singly sig-
nify, yet I understand not how any thing is in a
place definitively and not circumscriptively. For
definitively comes from definio, which is to set
bounds. And therefore to be in a place definitively,
is when the bounds of the place are every way
marked out. But to be in a place circumscriptively,
is when the bounds of the place are described
round about. To be in a place repletively, is to fill
a place. Who does not see that this distinction is
canting and fraud ? If any man will call it pious
fraud, he is to prove the piety as clearly as I have
here explained the fraud. Besides, no fraud can
be pious in any man, but him that hath a lawful
right to govern him whom he beguileth; whom
the Bishop pretends to govern, I cannot tell. Be-
sides, his Lordship ought to have considered, that
every Bishop is one of the great Council, trusted

^B blasji

H^ ofGi

398 AN AXSWEB TO BISHOP BBAMHAU^

by the King to give their adrice with the Lords
temporal, for the mnfcing; of good laws, dril and
eocle^astical, and not to offer them sndi obscore
doctrines, as if, because they are not rersed in
Sdiool-diTinity, therefore they had no leaming at
all, nor understood the English tongne. Why did
the dirines of England contend so mnch heretofore
to hare the Bible translated into English, if they
never meant any but themselves should read it r
If a lay-man be publicly encouraged to search the
Scriptures for his own salvation, what has a divine
to do to impose upon him any strange interpr^a-
tion, unless, if he make him err to damnation, he
will be damned in his stead :

J. D. Oar God is immutable without any dia-
dow of taming by i^iai^, to whom all things are
[Heseot, nothing past, nothing to come. But T. H.
his God is measured by time, loang something that
is past, and acquiring something that doth come
every minute. That is as mucb as to say, that our
God is infinite, and his God h finite ; for unto that
which is actually infinite, nothing can be added,
neither time nor parts. Hear himself: Xor do I
understand what derogation it can be to the Dirine
perfection^ to attribute to it potentiality, that t* ijt
English, power (so little doth he understand what
potentiality is) and successire duration. And he
chargeth it upon us as a fault, that we will not have
eternity to be an endless succession of time. How,
successire duration, and an endless succession of
time in God? Then God is not infiuite, then God
is older to.-day than he was yesterday. Away with
blasphemies ! Before, he destroyed the ubiquity
of God, and now he destroyeth his eternity.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 299

T. H. I shall omit both here and henceforth his
preambulatory, impertinent, and uncivil calumnies.
The thing he pretends to prove is this. That it is
a derogation to the Divine power to attribute to it
potentiality (that is in English power) and succes-
sive duration. One of his reasons is, God is infinite,
and nothing can be added to infinite^ neither of
time nor of parts: it is true. And therefore I
said, God is infinite and eternal, without beginning
or end, either of time or place ; which he has not
here confuted, but confirmed. He denies potenti-
ality and power to be all one, and says I little un-
derstand what potentiality is. He ought therefore in
this place to have defined what potentiality is : for
I understand it to be the same with potentia^
which is in English power. There is no such word
as potentiality in the Scriptures, nor in any author
of the Latin tongue. It is found only in School-
divinity, as a word of art, or rather as a word of
craft, to amaze and puzzle the laity. And there-
fore I no sooner read than interpreted it. In the
next place he says, as wondering : How, an endless
succession of time in God ! Why not ? Gods
mercy endurethfor ever^ and surely God endureth
as long as his mercy ; therefore there is duration in
God, and consequently endless succession of time.
God who in sundry times and divers manners
spake in time past, &c. But in a former dispute
with me about free-will, he hath defined eternity
to be nunc stanSy that is an ever standing now, or
everlasting instant. This he thinks himself bound
in honour to defend. What reasonable soul can
digest this ? We read in Scripture, that a thou-
sand years with God, is but as yesterday. And

900 A% A3r0WBB TO BISHOP BBA3fHAUU

trby r bat betiatMe he sea as ckarir to the end of
«i tbofJuaDd jream, » to the end of a dar. But his
Lordiihip affiiUM, that both a thoosaiid years and
a day are bat one uuttant, the same siamdmg mow,
or eteniitjr. If he had showed an holy text for
thM drx:trine, or any text of the book of Commom
Prayer (in the Scriptnre and book of Commom
Prayer i» rxintained all our religion), 1 had yielded
to him ; but School-diviuity I value little or nothing
at alL Though in this he contradict also the
Hi;hrK)l-men, who say the soul is eternal only a
parte post^ but God is eternal both a parte post,
and a parte ante. Thus there are parts in eternity ;
and eternity being, as his Lordship says, the Divine
substance, the Divine substance has parts> and nunc
stans has parts. Is not this darkness ? I take it to
be tlu! kingdom of darkness, and the teachers of it
((^specially of this doctrine, that God, who is not
only optimus, but also maximtis, is no greater than
to be wholly contained in the least atom of earth,
or other body, and that his whole duration is but
un instant of time) to be either grossly ignorant or
ungodly deceivers.

J. I). Our God is a perfect, pure, simple, indi-
visible, infinite essence ; free from all composition
of mutter and form, of substance and accidents.
All matter is finite, and he who acteth by his infi-
nite essence, needeth neither organs nor faculties
(iW est^ HO poicety note that)^ nor accidents, to ren-
der hin\ more complete. But T. H. his God is a
divisible God. a comj>ounded God, that hath matter,
or qualities, or amdents. Hear himself. I argue
thus: The Dirint* ^^nhstance is indirhible; buteter-
mtjf h /Ae* Oinnt' snbstance. The major h eridemty

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 301

because God is actus simplicissimus ; the minor is
confessed hy all meUy that whatsoever is attributed
to God, is God. Now listen to his answer : The
major is so far from being evident, that actus
simplicissimus signifieth nothing. The minor is
said by some men, thought by no man ; whatsoever
is thought is understood. The major was this,
the Divine substance is indivisible. Is this far
from being evident? Either it is indivisible, or
divisible. If it be not indivisible, then it is divisible,
then it is materiate, then it is corporeal, then it
hath parts, then it is finite by his own confession.
Habere partes, aut esse totum aliquid, sunt attri-
buta finitorum. Upon this silly conceit he ehargeth
me for saying, that God is not just, but justice
itself; not eternal, but eternity itself; which he
calleth unseemly words to be said of God. And
he thinketh he doth me a great courtesy in not
adding blasphemous and atheistical. But his
bolts are so soon shot, and his reasons are such
vain imaginations, and such drowsy phantasies,
that no sober man doth much regard them. Thus
he hath already destroyed the ubiquity, the eter-
nity, and the simplicity of God. I wish he had
considered better with himself, before he had
desperately cast himself upon these rocks.

But paulo major a canamus. My next charge is,
that he destroys the very being of God, and leaves
nothing in his place, but an empty name. For by
taking away all incorporeal substances, he taketh
away God himself. The very name, saith he, of
an incorporeal substance, is a contradiction. And
to say that an angel 00 spirit, is an incorporeal
substance, is to say in effect, that there is no

302 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

angel or spirit at all. By the same reason to say,
that God is an incorporeal substance, is to say there
is no God at all. Either God is incorporeal ; or he
is finite, and consists of parts, and consequently is
no God. This, that there is no incorporeal spirit,
is that main root of atheism, from which so many
lesser branches are daily sprouting up.

T. H. God is indeed a perfect, pure, simple, in-
finite substance; and his name incommunicable,
that is to say, not divisible into this and that indi-
vidual God, in such manner as the name of man is
divisible into Peter and John. And therefore God
is individual ; which word amongst the Greeks is
expressed by the word indivisible. Certain heretics
in the primitive church, because special and indi-
vidual are called particulars, maintained that Christ
was a particular God, difiering in number from God
the Father. And this was the doctrine that was
condemned for heresy in the first council of Nice,
by these words, God hath no parts. And yet many
of the Latin fathers, in their explications of the
Nicene creed, have expounded the word consuh-
stantialy by the community of nature, which dif-
ferent species have in their genus, and different
individuals in the species ; as if Peter and John were
consubstantial, because they agree in one human
nature ; which is contrary, I confess, to the mean-
ing of the Nice fathers.. But that in a substance
infinitely great, it should be impossible to consider
any thing as not infinite, I do not see it there
condemned. For certainly he that thinks God is
in every part of the church, does not exclude him
out of the churchyard. And is not this a consider-
ing of him by parts r For dividing a thing which

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 303

we cannot reach nor separate one part thereof from
another, is nothing else but considering of the same
by parts. So much concerning indivisibility from
natural reason ; for I will wade no further, but rely
upon the Scriptures. God is nowhere said in the
Scriptures to be indivisible, unless his Lordship
meant division to consist only in separation of
parts, which I think he did not. St. Paul indeed
saith (1 Cor. i. 13) : Is Christ divided? Not that
the followers of Paul, ApoUos, and Cephas, fol-
lowed some one part, some another of Christ ; but
that thinking diflFerently of his nature, they made
as it were diflFerent kinds of him. Secondly, his
Lordship expounds simplicity, by not being com-
pounded of matter and form, or of substance and
accidents, unlearnedly. For nothing can be so
compounded. The matter of a chair is wood ; the
form is the figure it hath, apt for the intended use.
Does his Lordship think the chair compounded of
the wood and the figure ? A man is rational : does
it therefore follow that reason is a part of the
man? It was Aristotle deceived him, who told
him that a rational living creature, is the defini-
tion of a man, and that the definition of a man
was his 'essence ; and therefore the Bishop and
other Schoolmen, from this that the word rational
is a part of these words, man is a rational living
creature, concluded that the essence of man was
a part of the man, and a rational man the same
thing with a rational soul. I should wonder how
any man, much more a doctor of divinity, should
be so grossly deceived, but that I know naturally
the generality of men speak the words of their
masters by rote, without having any ideas of the

304 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

things, which the words signify. Lastly, he calls
God an essence. If he mean by essence the same
with ens^ to ov, I approve it. Otherwise, what is
essence ? There is no such word in the Old Testa-
ment. The Hebrew language, which has no word
answerable to the copulative est, will not bear it.
TheNewTestament hath oicrto,but never for essence ^
nor for substance, but only for riches. I come now
to his argument in mood and figure, which is this,
the Divine substance is indivisible. That is the
major. Eternity is the Divine substance. That
is the minor. Ergo, the Divine substance is indi-
visible. The major, he says, is evident, because
God is actus simplicissimus. The minor is con-
fessed, he thinks, by all men, because whatsoever
is attributed to God, is God. To this I answered,
that the major was so far from being evident, that
actus simplicissimus signifieth nothing, and that
the minor was understood by no man. First, what
is actus in the major ? Does any man understand
actus for a substance, that is, for a thing subsisting
by itself? Is not actu^, in English, either an act
or an action, or nothing ? Or is any of these sub-
stance ? If it be evident, why did he not explain
actus by a definition ? And as to the minor, though
all men in the world understand that the Eternal
is God, yet no man can understand that the eter-
nity is God. Perhaps he and the Schoolmen mean
by actu^, the same that they do by essentia. What
is the essence of a man, but his humaiiity; or of God,
but his Deity ; of great, but greatness ; and so of
all other denominating attributes ? And the words,
God and Deity, are of different signification. John
Damascene, a father of the church, expounding the

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 305

Nicene creed, denies plainly that the Deity was in-
carnate ; but all true Christians hold that God was
incarnate. Therefore God and the Deity signify
divers things ; and therefore eternal and eternity
are not the same, no more than a wise man and
his wisdom are the same ; nor God and his justice
the same thing: and universally it is false, that the
attribute in the abstract is the same with the sub-
stance, to which it is attributed. Also it is univer-
sally true of God, that the attribute in the concrete,
and the substance to which it is attributed, is not
the same thing.

I come now to his next period or paragraph,
wherein he would fain prove, that by denying in-
corporeal substance, I take away God's existence.
The words he cites here are mine : to say an angel
or spirit is an incorporeal substance^ is to say in
effect there is no angel nor spirit at all. It is true
also, that to say that God is an incorporeal sub-
stance, is to say in effect there is no God at all.
What alleges he against it, but the School-divinity
which I have already answered? Scripture he can
bring none, because the word incorporeal is not
found in Scripture. But the Bishop, trusting to his
Aristotelian and Scholastic learning, hath hitherto
made no use of Scripture, save only of these texts :
1 Cor. ix. 7 ' Who hath planted a vineyard^ and
eateth not of the fruit thereof; or who feedeth a
Jlocky and eateth not of the milk of the flock? and
Rev. iv. 1 1 : Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive
glory, honour, and power : for thou hast created
all things, and for thy pleasure they were created:
thereby to prove that the right of God to govern
and punish mankind is not derived from his omni-

VOL. IV. X

306 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BBAMHALL.

potence. Let us now see how he proves incorpo-
reity by his own reason without Scripture. Either
Gody he saith, is incorporeal or finite. He knows
I deny both, and say he is corporeal and infinite:
against which he offers no proof, but only^ accord-
ing to his custom of disputing, calls it the root of
atheism ; and interrogates me, what real thing is
left in the world, if God be incorporeal, but body
and accidents ? I say there is nothing left but cor-
poreal substance. For I have denied, as he knew^
that there is any reality in accidents ; and never-
theless maintain God's existence, and that he is a
most pure^ and most simple corporeal spirit. Here
his Lordship catching nothing, removes to the eter-
nity of the Trinity, which these my grounds, he
says, destroy. How so ? I say the Trinity, and
the persons thereof, are that one pure, simple, and
eternal corporeal spirit ; and why does this destroy
the Trinity, more than if I had called it incorporeal ?
He labours here and seeketh somewhat to refresh
himself in the word person; by the same grounds ^
he saith, every kiiig hath a^ many persons as there
he justices of peace in his kingdom^ and God
Almighty hath as many persons as there he kings.
Why not ? For I never said that all those kings
were that God ; and yet God giveth that name to
the kings of the earth. For the signification of
the word person^ I shall expound it by and by in
another place. Here ends his Lordship's School-
argument ; now let me come with my Scripture-
argument. St. Paul, concerning Christ (Col. ii. 9)
saith thus : In him dwelleth all the fulness of the
Godliead bodily. This place Athanasius, a great
and zealous doctor in the Nicene Council, and ve-
hement enemy of Arius the heretic, who allowed

^

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 307

Christ to be no otherwise God, than as men of ex-
cellent piety were so called, expoundeth thus : The
fulness of the Godhead dwelleth in him bodily,
(Greek crw^wiTiicdJc), id est Bukioq, id est, realiter. So
there is one Father for corporality, and that God
was \\\ Christ in such manner as body is in body.
Again, there were in the primitive church a sort of
heretics who maintained that Jesus Christ had not a
true real body, but was only a phantasm or spright,
such as the Latins call spectra. Against the head
of this sect, whose name I think was Apelles, Ter-
tullian wrote a book, now extant amongst his other
works, intituled De Came Christi; wherein after he
had spoken of the nature of phantasms, and showed
that they had nothing of reality in them, he con-
cludeth with these words, "whatsoever is not body,
is nothing^ So here is on my side a plain text of
Scripture, and two ancient and learned Fathers. Nor
was this doctrine of TertuUian condemned in the
Council of Nice; but the division of the divine sub-
stance into God the Father, God the Son, and God
the Holy Ghost. For these words, God has no
parts y were added, for explication of the word con--
substantial, at the request of the dissenting Fathers,
and are further explained both in Athanasius his
creed, in these words, not three Gods but one God,
and by the constant attribute ever since of the in-
dividual Trinity. The same words nevertheless do
condemn the Anthropomorphites also ; for though
there appeared no Christians that professed that
God had an organical body, and consequently that
the persons were three individuals, yet the Gentiles
were all Anthropomorphites, and there condemned
by these words, God has no parts.

X2

308 . AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

And thus I liave answered his accusation con-
cerning the eternity and existence of the Divine
substance, and made it appear that in truth, the
question between us, is whether God be a phantasm
(id est, an idol of the fancy, which St. Paul saith
is nothing) or a corporeal spirit, that is to say,
something that has magnitude.

In this place I think it not amiss, leaving for a
little while this theological dispute, to examine the
signification of those words which have occasioned
so much diversity of opinion in this kind of doctrine.

The word substance, in Greek viro<n-acric, ivotn-av,
{nro<na^.vov, signify the same thing, namely, a
ground, a base, any thing that has existence or
subsistence in itself , anything that upholdeth that
which else would fall, in which sense God is pro-
perly the hypostasis, base, and substance that
upholdeth all the world, having subsistence not
only in himself', but from himself; whereas other
substances have their subsistence only in themselves,
not from themselves. But metaphorically, faith is
called (Heb. xi. I) a substance, because it is the
foundation or base of our hope ; for faith failing,
our hope falls. And (2 Cor. ix. 4) St. Paul having
boasted of the liberal promise of the Corinthians
towards the Macedonians, calls that promise the
ground, the hypostasis of that his boasting. And
(Heb. i. 3) Christ is called the image of the sub-
stance (the hypostasis) of his Father, and for the
proper and adequate signification of the word
hypostasis, the Greek Fathers did always oppose it
to apparition or phantasm ; as when a man seeth
his face in the water, his real face is called the
hypostasis of the phantastic face in the water. So

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 309

also in speaking, the thing understood or named
is called hypostasis, in respect of the name ; so also
a body coloured is the hypostasis, substance and
subject of the colour ; and in like manner of all its
other accidents. Essence and all other abstract
names, are words artificial belonging to the art of
logic, and signify only the manner how we con-
sider the substance itself. And of this I have
spoken sufficiently in -my Leviathan (vol. iii. page
6/2). Body (Latin, corpus, Greek, aw^a) is that
substance which hath magnitude indeterminate,
and is the same with corporeal substance ; but a
body is that which hath magnitude determinate,
and consequently is understood to be totum or in-
tegrum aliquid. Pure and simple body, is body
of one and the same kind, in every part through-
out ; and if mingled with body of another kind,
though the total be compounded or mixed, the
parts nevertheless retain their simplicity, as when
water and wine are mixed, the parts of both kinds
retain their simplicity. For water and wine can
not both be in one and the same place at once.

Matter is the same with body ; but never with-
out respect to a body which is made thereof. Form
is the aggregate of all accidents together, for which
we give the matter a new name ; so albedo^ white-
nesSy is the form of alburn^ or white body. So also
humanity is the essence of man, and Deity the
essence of Deus.

Spirit is thin, fluid, transparent, invisible body.
The word in Latin signifies breath, air, ydnd, and
the like. In Greek irvtvjxa from ttvIw, spiro, fio.

I have seen, and so have many more, two waters,
one of the river, the other a mineral water, so like
th(it no man cquld discern the one from the other

310 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

by his sight ; yet when they have been both put
together, the whole substance could not by the eye
be distinguished from milk. Yet we know that
the one was not mixed with the other, so as every
part of the one to be in every part of the other,
for that is impossible, unless two bodies can be in
the same place. How then could the change be
made in every part, but only by the activity of the
mineral water, changing it every where to the
sense, and yet not being every where, and in every
part of the water ? If then such gross bodies have
so great activity, what shall we think of spirits,
whose kinds be as many as there be kinds of liquor,
and activity greater ? Can it then be doubted, but
that God, who is an infinitely fine Spirit, and withal
intelligent, can make and change all species and
kinds of body as he pleaseth ? But I dare not say,
that this is the way by which God Almighty work-
eth, because it is past ray apprehension : yet it
serves very well to demonstrate, that the omnipo-
tence of God implieth no contradiction ; and is
better than by pretence of magnifying the fineness
of the Divine substance, to reduce it to a spright or
phantasm, which is nothing.

A person (Latin, persona) signifies an intelli-
gent substance, that acteth any thing in his own
or another's name, or by his own or another*s
authority. Of this definition there can be no other
proof than from the use of that word, in such
Latin authors as were esteemed the most skilftd in
their own language, of which number was Cicero.
But Cicero, in an epistle to Atticus, saith thus :
Unus sustineo ires personas, me?, adversarii, et
judicis : that is, " I that am but one man, sustain
tiiree persons ; mine own person, the person of my

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 311

adversary, and the person of the judge.** Cicero
was here the substance intelligent, one man ; and
because he pleaded for himself, he calls himself
his own person : and again, because he pleaded for
his adversary, he says, he sustained the person of
his adversary : and lastly, because he himself gave
the sentence, he says, he sustained the person of
the judge. In the same sense we use the word in
English vulgarly, calling him that acteth by his
own authority, his own person, and him that acteth
by the authority of another, the person of that
other. And thus we have the exact meaning of
the word person. The Greek tongue cannot ren-
der it ; for vpoatoKov is properly a face, and, meta-
phorically, a vizard of an actor upon the stage.
How then did the Greek Fathers render the word
person^ as it is in the blessed Trinity ? Not well.
Instead of the word person they put hypostasis^
which signifies substance ; from whence it might be
inferred, that the three persons in the Trinity are
three Divine substances, that is, three Gods. The
word 7rpo<T(owov they could not use, because face
and vizard are neither of them honourable attri-
butes of God, nor explicative of the meaning of the
Greek church. Therefore the Latin (and conse-
quently the English) church, renders hypostasis
every where in Athanasius his creed by person.
But the word hypostatical union is rightly retained
and used by divines, as being the union of two
hypostases, that is, of two substances or natures in
the person of Christ. But seeing they also hold
the soul of our Saviour to be a substance, which,
though separated from his body, subsisted never-
theless in itself, and consequently, before it was

312 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

separated from his body upon the cross, was a dis-
tinct nature from his body, how will they avoid
this objection, that then Christ had three natures^
three hypostases, without granting, that huf resur^
rection was a new vivijication^ and not a return of
his soul out of Heaven into the grave ? The con-
trary is not determined by the church. Thus far
in explication of the words that occur in this con-
troversy. Now I return again to his Lordship's
discourse.

t/. D. When they have taken away all incorpo-
real spirits, what do they leave God himself to be ?
He who is the fountain of all being, from whom
and in whom all creatures have their being, must
needs have a real being of his own. And what
real being can God have among bodies and acci-
dents ? For they have left nothing else in the uni-
verse. Then T. H. may move the same question
of God, which he did of devils. / would gladly
know in what classes of entities^ the Bishop
ranketh God? Infinite being and participated
being are not of the same nature. Yet to speak
according to human apprehension, (apprehension
and comprehension differ much : T. H. confesseth
that natural reason doth dictate to us, that God is
infinite, yet natural reason cannot comprehend the
infiniteness of God) I place him among incorporeal
substances or spirits, because he hath been pleased
to place himself in that rank, God is a Spirit. Of
which place T. H. giveth his opinion, that it is
unintelligible, and all others of the same nature,
and fall not ufider human understanding.

They who deny all incorporeal substances, can
understand nothing by God, but either nature, (not

Ik.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 313

naturam naturantem^ that is, a real author of na-
ture, but naturam naturatam^ that is, the orderly
concourse of natural causes, as T. H. seemeth to
intimate,) or a fiction of the brain, without real
being, cherished for advantage and politic ends, as
a profitable error, howsoever dignified with the
glorious title of the eternal cause of all things.

T. H. To his Lordship's question here : What I
leave God to he? I answer, I leave him to be a most
pure, simple, invisible spirit corporeal. By corpo-
real I mean a substance that has magnitude, and
so mean all learned men, divines and others, though
perhaps there be some common people so rude as
to call nothing body, but what they can see and
feel. To his second question : What real being He
can have amongst bodies and accidents ? I answer,
the being of a spirit, not of a spright. If I should
ask any the most subtile distinguisher, what middle
nature there were between an infinitely subtile sub-
stance, and a mere thought or phantasm, by what
name could he call it ? He might call it perhaps an
incorporeal substance ; and so incorporeal shall pass
for a middle nature between infinitely subtile and
nothings and be less subtile than infinitely subtile,
and yet more subtile than a thought. It is granted,
he says, that the nature of God is incomprehensible.
Doth it therefore follow, that we may give to the
Divine substance what negative name we please ?
Because he says, the whole Divine substance is here
and there and every where throughout the world,
and that the soul of a man is here and there and
every where throughout man's body ; must we
therefore take it for a mystery of Christian religion,
upon his or any other Schoolman's ^prd, without the

914 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL«

Scripture, which calls nothing a mystery but the
incarnation of the eternal God ? Or is incorporeal
a mystery, when not at all mentioned in the Bible,
but to the contrary it is written, That the fulness
of the Deity was hodily in Christ? When the
nature of the thing is incomprehensible, I can
acquiesce in the Scripture : but when the signifi-
cation of words is incomprehensible, I cannot
acquiesce in the authority of a Schoolman.

t/. D. We have seen what his principles are con-
cerning the Deity, they are full as bad or worse
concerning the Trinity. Hear himself: A person
is he that is represented a^ often as he is re--
presented. And therefore God who has been
represented^ that is personated thrice^ may pro^
perly enough he said to he three persons, though
neither the word Person nor Trinity he ascribed to
him in the Bible. And a little after : To conclude,
the doctrine of tJie Trinity, as far as can be
gathered directly from the Scripture, is in sub-
stance this, that the God who is altcays one and
the same, was tlie person represented by Moses,
the person represented by his Son incarnate, and
the person represented by the apostles. As re-
presented by the apostles, the holy spirit by which
they spake is God. As represented by his Son,
that was God and man, the Son is that God, As
represented by Moses and the High-priests, the
Father, that is to say, the Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ, is that God. From whence we may
gather the reason why those names, Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost, in the signification of the God-
head, are never used in the Old Testament. For
they are persons, that is, they have their names

%

9

^ AN ANSWER TO BTSHOP BRAMHALL. 315

I

t^om representing^ which could not he till divers
. ersons had represented God^ in ruling or in di-
recting under him.

Who is so bold as blind Bayard ? The emblem
of a little boy attempting to lade all the water out
of the sea with a cockle-shell, doth fit T. H. as ex-
actly as if it had been shaped for him, who thinketh
to measure the profound and inscrutable mysteries
of religion, by his own silly, shallow conceits. What
is now become of the great adorable mystery of
the blessed undivided Trinity ? It is shrunk into
nothing. Upon his grounds there was a time when
there was no Trinity : and we must blot these
words out of our creed, the Father eternal, the
Son eternal J and the Holy Ghost eternal: and
these other words out of our Bibles, Let us make
man after our image x unless we mean that this
was a consultation of God with Moses and the
apostles. What is now become of the eternal ge-
neration of the Son of God, if this sonship did not
begin until about four thousand years after the cre-
ation were expired? Upon these grounds every
king hath as many persons, as there be justices of
peace and petty constables in his kingdom. Upon
this account God Almighty hath as many persons,
as there have been sovereign princes in the world
since Adam. According to this reckoning each one
of us, like so many Geryons, may have as many
persons as we please to make procurations. Such
bold presumption requireth another manner of con-
futation.

T. H. As for the words recited, I confess there
is a fault in the ratiocination, which nevertheless
his Lordship hath not discovered, but no impiety.

316 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

All that he objecteth is, that it folio weth hereupon,
that there be as many persons of a king, as there
be petty constables in his kingdom. And so there
are, or else he cannot be obeyed. But I never said
that a king, and every one of his persons, are the
same substance. The fault I here made, and saw
not, was this ; I was to prove that it is no con-
tradiction, as Lucian and heathen scoffers would
have it, to say of God, he was one and three. I
saw the true definition of the word person would
serve my turn in this manner ; God, in his own per-
soUj both created the world, and instituted a church
in Israel, using therein the ministry of Moses : the
same God, in the person of his Son God and man,
redeemed the same world, and the same church ;
the same God, in the person of the Holy Ghost,
sanctified the same church, and all the faithful men
in the world. Is not this a clear proof that it is
no contradiction to say that God is three persons
and one substance r And doth not the church
distinguish the persons in the same manner ? See
the words of our catechism. Question. What dost
thou chiefly learn i?i these articles of thy belief ?
Answer. Fir sty I learn to believe in God the Fat her y
that hath viade me and all the world ; Secondly j in
God the Son, who hath redeemed me and all man-
hind ; Thirdly, in God the Holy Ghost , that hath
sanctified me and all the elect people of God. But
at what time was the church sanctified ? Was it
not on the day of Pentecost, in the descending of
the Holy Ghost upon the apostles ? His Lordship
all this while hath catched nothing. It is I that
catched myself, for saying, instead of by the mi-
nistry of Moses^ iu the person of Mose§. But

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 317

this error I no sooner saw, than I no less publicly
corrected than I had committed it, in my Leviathan
converted into Latin, which by this time I think is
printed beyond the seas with this alteration^ and
also with the omission of some such passages as
strangers are not concerned in. And I had cor-
rected this error sooner, if I had sooner found it.
For though I was told by Dr. Cosins, now Bishop
of Durham, that the place above-cited was not ap-
plicable enough to the doctrine of the Trinity, yet
I could not in reviewing the same espy the defect,
till of late, when being solicited from beyond sea,
to translate the book into Latin, and fearing some
other man might do it not to my liking, I examined
this passage and others of the like sense more nar-
rowly. But how concludes his Lordship out of
this, that I put out of the creed these words, the
Father eternal^ the Son eternal, the Holy Ghost
eternal ? Or these words, let us make man after
our image, out of the Bible ? Which last words
neither I nor Bellarmine put out of the Bible^ but
we both put them out of the number of good argu-
ments to prove the Trinity ; for it is no imusual
thing in the Hebrew, as may be seen by Bellar-
mine's quotations, to join a noun of the plural
number with a verb of the singular. And we may
say also of many other texts of Scripture alleged
to prove the Trinity, that they are not so firm as
that high article requireth. But mark his Lord-
ship*s Scholastic charity in the last words of this
period: such hold presumption requireth another
manner of confutation. This bishop, and others oi
his opinion, had been in their element, if they had
been bishops in Queen Mary's time.

318 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

/. D. Concerning God the Son, forgetting what
he had said elsewhere, where he calleth him God
and man, and the Son of God incarnate^ he doubt-
eth not to say, that the word hypostatieal is cant-
ing. As if the same person could be both God and
man without a personal, that is, an hypostatieal
union of the two natures of God and man.

T. H. If Christian profession be (as certainly it
18 in England) a law ; and if it be of the nature of
a law to be made known to all men that are to
obey it, in such manner as they may have no excuse
for disobedience from their ignorance; then, without
doubt, all words unknown to the people, and as to
them insignificant, are canting. The word suh^
stance is understood by the vulgar well enough,
when it is said of a body, but in other sense not
at all, except for their riches. But the word
hypostatieal is understood only by those, and but
few of those that are learned in the Greek tongue,
and is properly used, as I have said before, of the
union of the two natures of Christ in one person.
So likewise consuhstantial in the Nicene creed, is
properly said of the Trinity. But to an English-
man that understands neither Greek nor Latin, and
yet is as much concerned as his Lordship was, the
word hypostatieal is no less canting than eternal
now.

J. D. He alloweth every man who is commanded
by his lawful sovereign, to deny Christ with his
tongue before mefi.

T. H. I allow it in some cases, and to some
men, which his Lordship knew well enough, but
would not mention. I alleged for it, in the place
cited, both reason and Scripture, though his Lord-

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 319

ship thought it not expedient to take notice of
either. If it be true that I have said, why does he
blame it? If false, why offers he no argument
against it, neither from Scripture nor from reason ?
Or why does he not show that the text I cite is not
applicable to the question, or not well interpreted
by me ? First, he barely cites it, because he thought
the words would sound harshly, and make a reader
admire them for impiety. But I hope I shall so
well instruct my reader ere I leave this place, that
this his petty art will have no effect. Secondly,
the cause why he omitted my arguments was, that
he could not answer them. Lastly, the cause why
he urgeth neither Scripture nor reason against it
was, that he saw none sufficient. My argument
from Scripture was this, {Leviathan^ vol. iii. p. 493)
taken out of 2 Kings v. 17-19, where Naaman the
Syrian saith to Elisha the prophet: Thy servant
will henceforth offer neither hurnt-offering nor
sacrifice to otJier Gods^ hut unto the Lord. In
this thing the Lord pardon thy servant ^ that when
my master goeth into the house of Rimmon to
worship there J and he leaneth on my handy and I
how myself in the house of Rimmon : when I how
myself in the house of Rimmon^ the Lord pardon
thy servant in this thing. And he said unto him^
Go in peace. What can be said to this ? Did
not Elisha say it from God ? Or is not this answer
of the prophet a permission ? When St. Paul and
St. Peter commanded the Christians of their time
to obey their princes, which then were heathens
and enemies of Christ, did they mean they should
lose their lives for disobedience? Did they not
rather mean they should preserve both their lives

320 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

and their faith, believing in Christ as they did, fay
this denial of the tongue, having no command to
the contrary ? If in this kingdom a Mahometan
should be made by terror to deny Mahomet and go
to church with us, would any man condemn this
Mahometan ? A denial with the mouth may per-
haps be prejudicial to the power of the church ; but
to retain the faith of Christ stedfastly in his heart,
cannot be prejudicial to his soul that hath under-
taken no charge to preach to wolves, whom they
know will destroy them. About the time of the
Council of Nice, there was a canon made (which
is extant in the history of the Nicene Council)
concerning those that being Christians had beea
seduced, not terrified, to a denial of Christ, and
again repenting, desired to be readmitted into the
church; in which canon it was ordained, that
those men should be no otherwise readmitted than
to be in the number of the cathechised, and not to
be admitted to the communion till a great many
years' penitence. Surely the church then would
have been more merciful to them that did the same
upon terror of present death and torments.

Let us now see what his Lordship might, though
but colourably, have alleged from Scripture against
it. There be three places only that seem to favour
his Lordship's opinion. The first is where Peter
denied Christ, and weepeth. The second is. Acts
V. 29 : Then Peter and the other Apostles an^
swered atid said, we ought to obey God rather
than men. The third is, Luke xii. 9 : But he tliat
denieth me before men, shall be denied before the
angels of God.

For answer to these texts, I must repeat what

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 321

what I have written, and his Lordship read in my
Leviathan J p. 656. For an unlearned man that is
in the power of an idolatrous king, or state, if
commanded on pain of death to worship before an
idol, doing it, he detesteth the idol in his heart,
he doth well ; though if he had the fortitude to
sufffer death, rather than worship it, he slwuld do
better. But if a pastor, who, as Christ's messen-
ger, has undertaken to teach Christ's doctrifie to
all nations, should do the same, it were not only a
sirvful scandal in respect of other Christian metis
consciences, hut a perfidious forsaking of his
charge. In which words I distinguish between a
pastor and one of the sheep of his flock. St. Peter
sinned in denying Christ ; and so does every pastor,
that denieth Christ, having undertaken the charge
of preaching the gospel in the kingdom of an infidel,
where he could expect at the undertaking of his
charge no less than death. And why, but because he
violates his trust in doing contrary to his commis-
sion. St. Peter was an apostle of Christ, and bound
by his voluntary undertaking of that office not only
to confess Christ, but also to preach him before those
infidels who, he knew, would like wolves devour
him. And therefore, when Paul and the rest of the
apostles were forbidden to preach Christ, they gave
this answer. We ought to obey God rather than
men. And it was to his disciples only which had
undertaken that office, that Christ saith, he that
denieth me before men, shall be denied before the
angels of God. And so I think I have sufficiently
answered this place, and shpwed that I do not
allow the denying of Christ, upon any colour of
torments, to his Lordship, nor to any other that

VOL. IV. Y

322 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

has undertaken the oflBce of a preacher. Which
if he think right, he will perhaps in this case put
himself into the number of those whom he calls
merciful doctors: whereas now he extends his
severity beyond the bounds of common equity. He
has read Cicero, and perhaps this story in him.
The senate of Rome would have sent Cicero to
treat of peace with Marcus Antonius ; but when
Cicero had showed them the just fear he had of
being killed by him, he was excused ; and if they
had forced him to it, and he by terror turned
enemy to them, he had in equity been excusable.
But his Lordship, I believe, did write this more
valiantly than he would have acted it.

J. D. He deposeth Christ from his true kingly
office, making his kingdom not to commence or
begin before the day of judgment. And the re-
gimeny wherewith Christ governeth his faithful
in this life, is not properly a kingdom, but a
pastoral office, or a right to teach. And a little
after, Christ had not kingly authority committed
to him by his Father in this world, but only con-
siliary and doctrinal.

T. H. How do I take away Christ's kingly
office ? He neither draws it by consequence from
my words, nor offers any argument at all against my
doctrine. The words he cites are in the contents
of chap. XVII. De Cive (vol. ii). In the body of the
chapter it is thus : The time of Chris fs being upon
the earth is called, in Scripture, the regeneration
often, but the kingdom never. When the Son of
God comes in majesty, and all the angels with
him, then he shall sit on the seat of majesty. My
kingdom is not of this world. God sent not his

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALI. 323

Son that he should judge the world. I came not
to Judge the worlds but to save the world. Man,
who made me a judge or divider amongst you ?
Let thy kingdom come. And other words to the
same purpose. Out of which it is clear that Christ
took upon him no regal power upon earth before
his assumption. But at his assumption his Apostles
asked him if he would then restore the kingdom
to Israel, and he answered, it was not for them to
know. So that hitherto Christ had not taken that
office upon him, unless his Lordship think that the
kingdom of God, and the kingdom of Christ, be two
distinct kingdoms. From the Assumption ever
since, all true Christians say daily in their prayers,
Thy kingdom come. But his Lordship had per-
haps forgot that. But when then beginneth Christ
to be a king ? I say it shall be then, when he comes
again in majesty with all the angels. And even
then he shall reign (as he is man) under his Father.
For St. Paul saith (1 Cor. xv. 25, 26) : He must
reign till he hath put all eneinies under his feet ;
the last enemy that shall he destroyed ^ is death.
But when shall God the Father reign again ? St.
Paul saith in the same chapter, verse 28 : When
idl things shall he subdued unto him, then shall
the Son also himself be subject unto him that put
all thifigs under him, that God may be all in all.
And verse 24 : Then cometh the end, when he
shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even
the Father; when he shall have put down all
rule, authority, and power. This is at the resur-
rection. And by this it is manifest, that his Lord-
ship was not so well versed in Scripture as he ought
to have been.

Y 2

324 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

J. D. He taketh away his priestly or propitia-
tory office. And although this act of our redemp-
tion he not always in Scripture called a sacrifice
and oblation, but sometimes a price ; yet by price
we are not to understand anything, by the value
whereof he could claim right to a pardon for us
from his offended Father, but that price which
God the Father was pleased in mercy to demand.
And again : Not that the death of one man,
though without sin, can satisfy for the offences
of all men in the rigour of Justice, but in the
mercy of God, that ordained such sacrifices for
sin, as he was pleased in rnercy to accept. He
knoweth no diflference between one who is mere
man^ and one who was both God and man; between
a Levitical sacrifice, and the all-sufficient sacrifice
of the cross ; between the blood of a calf, and the
precious blood of the Son of God.

T. H. Yes, I know there is a difference between
blood and blood, but not any such as can make
a difference in the case here questioned. Our
Saviour's blood was most precious, but still it was
human blood ; and I hope his Lordship did never
think otherwise, or that it was not accepted by his
Father for our redemption.

J. D. And touching the prophetical office of
Christ, I do much doubt whether he do believe in
earnest, that there is any such thing as prophecy in
the world. He maketh very little difference be-
tween a prophet and a madman^ and a demoniac.
And if there were nothing else, says he, that
bewrayed their madness, yet that very arrogating
such inspiration to themselves is argument enough.
He maketh the pretence of inspiration in any man

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 325

to be, and always to have been, an opinion perni-
cious to peacCy and tending to the dissolution of
all civil government. He subjecteth all prophet-
ical revelations from God, to the sole pleasure and
censure of the sovereign prince, either to authorize
them, or to exauctorate them. So as two prophets
prophecying the same thing at the same time, in
the dominions of two different princes, the one
shall be a true prophet, the other a false. And
Christ, who had the approbation of no sovereign
prince, upon his grounds, was to be reputed a false
prophet everywhere. Every man therefore ought
to consider who is the sovereign prophet ; that is
to say J who it is that is God's vicegerent upon
earthy and hath next under God the authority of
governing Christian men ; and to observe for a
rule that doctrine, which in the name of God he
hath commanded to be taught, and thereby to
examine and try out the truth of those doctrines
which pretended prophets, with miracle or with--
out, shall at any time advance, &c. And if he
disavow them, then no more to obey their voice ;
or if he approve them, then to obey them as men,
to whom God hath given a part of the Spirit of
their sovereign. Upon his principles the case
holdeth as well among Jews and Turks and Hea-
thens, as Christians. Then he that teacheth tran-
substantiation in France, is a true prophet ; he that
teacheth it in England, a false prophet ; he that
blasphemeth Christ in Constantinople, a true pro-
phet ; he that doth the same in Italy, a false pro-
phet. Then Samuel was a false prophet to contest
with Saul, a sovereign prophet : so was the man of
God, who submitted not to the more Divine and

32Q AS ANSWER TO BlSilOP BRAMHALL.

prophetic spirit of Jeroboam. And Elijah for
proving Ahab. Then Micaiah had but his deserts,
to be clapped up in prison, and fed with bread of
affliction, and water of affliction, for daring to
€X)ntradict GocTs vicegerent upon earth. And
Jeremiah was justly thrown into a dungeon, for
prophecying against Zedekiah his li^e lord. If
his principles were true, it were strange indeed,
that none of all these princes, nor any other that
ever was in the world, should understand their own
privileges. And yet more strange, that God Al-
mighty should take the part of such rebellious pro-
phets, and justify their prophesies by the event, if
it were true that 7ione hut the sovereign in a Chris-
tian (the reason is the same for Jewish) common-
wealthy can take notice^ what is or what is not the
word of God.

T. H. To remove bis Lordship's doubt in the
first place, I confess there was true prophesy and
true prophets in the church of God, from Abraham
down to our Saviour, the greatest prophet of all,
and the last of the Old Testament, and first of the
New. After our Saviour's time, till the death of
St. John the apostle, there were true prophets in
the church of Christ, prophets to whom God spake
supernaturally, and testified the truth of their mis-
sion by miracles. Of those that in the Scripture
are called prophets without miracles, (and for this
cause only, that they spake in the name of God to
men, and in the name of men to God), there are,
have been, and shall be in the church, innumerable.
Such a prophet was his Lordship, and such are all
pastors in the Christian church. But the question
here is of those prophets that from the mouth of

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 327

God foretell things future, or do other miracle.
Of this kind I deny there has been any since the
death of St. John the Evangelist. If any man find
fault with this, he ought to name some man or
other, whom we are bound to acknowledge that
they have done a miracle, cast out a devil, or cured
any disease by the sole invocation of the Divine
Majesty. We are not bound to trust to the legend
of the Roman saints, nor to the history written by
Sulpitius of the life of St. Martin, or to any other
fables of the Roman clergy, nor to such things as
were pretended to be done by some divines here in
the time of king James. Secondly, he says I make
little difference between a prophet j and a madman
or demoniac ; to which I say, he accuses me falsely.
I say only thus much, that I see nothing at all in
the Scripture that requireth a belief ^ that demo-
niacs were any other thing than madman. And
this is also made very probable out of Scripture, by
a worthy divine, Mr. Mede. But concerning pro-
phets, I say only that the Jews, both under the
Old Testament and under the New, took them to
be all one with madmen and demoniacs ; and
prove it out of Scripture by many places, both of
the Old and New Testament. Thirdly, that the
pretence or arrogating to one's-self Divine inspira-
tion, is argument enough to show a man is mady is
my opinion; but his Lordship imderstands not
inspiration in the same sense that I do. He
understands it properly of God's breathing into a
man, or pouring into him the Divine substance, or
Divine graces. And in that sense, he that arrogateth
inspiration unto himself, neither understands what
he saith, nor makes others to understand him:

jk% jkMmwmm to bishof m\

wiidi tt propcrif' wwirfftf^ n maut cksree. Bat I
»ih I It iiwi aupirmii^m m t^ Sciii i me wattMflkt^
tiaStf, ifM G^^ ^ndasMDt oi oar ■dads to trvik
aad pKtj. FooftidT. whtrt^ ht sn^ I miIt Ike
fvcttttce cf imspiraiU^ to be penueioiK to peace;
I ansirer. tkat I dunk kK Lorekiiip wss of Hy
opi&«»; for he caDedtiuge mol. wkkkm dK ktte
ehrfl war pretended tlie spirit, and new l^ht^ and
tobe tbe onk'fiutlifidHMn.ybaflltr^; forkecaDed
them in \m book, and <fid call them in ki$ fife-time,
famaticM. And what is z, fanatic but a marfwgn ?
And what can be more pemicioos to peace, than the
rerekuions that were by these ytfna/irf pretended r
I do not say there were not doctrines of odier men,
not caUedybiMi/iVjr, as pemicioas to peace as dieir^s
were, and in great part a cause of those troubles.
FifthlTt from that I make prophetical rerdations
sobjeet to the examination of the lawful soyereign,
he inferreth, that two prophets prof^ecying the
same thing at the same time, in the dominions of
two different princes, the one shall be a true pro-
phet, the other a £Eilse. This consequence is not
good: for seeing they teach different doctrines,
they cannot both of them confirm their doctrine with
miracles. But this I prove, in the place(vol. iii.p. 426)
he citeth, that whether either of their doctrines
shall be taught publicly or not, it is in the power
of the sovereign of the place only to determine.
Nay, I say now further, if a prophet come to any
private man in the name of God, that man shall be
judge whether he be a true prophet or not, before
he obey him. See 1 John, iv. 1. Sixthly, whereas
he says that, upon my grounds, Christ was to be
reputed a false prophet every where, because his

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 329

doctrine was received no where ; his Lordship
had read my book more negligently, than was fit
for one that would confute it. My ground is this ;
that Christ in right of his Father was king of the
Jews, and consequently supreme prophet, and judge
of all prophets. What other princes thought of his
prophesies, is nothing to the purpose. I never
said that princes can make doctrines or prophesies
true or false ; but I say every sovereign prince has
a right to prohibit the public teaching of them,
whether false or true. But what an oversight is it
in a divine, to say that Christ had the approbation
of no sovereign prince, when he had the approba-
tion of God, who was king of the Jews, and Christ
his viceroy, and the whole Scripture written (John,
XX. 31) to prove it; when his miracles declared
it ; when Pilate confessed it ; and when the apos-
tles' office was to proclaim it ? Seventhly, if we
must not consider, in points of Christian faith, who
is the sovereign prophet, that is, who is next imder
Christ our supreme head and governor, I wish his
Lordship would have cleared, ere he died, these few
questions. Is there not need of some judge of
controverted doctrines ? I think no man can deny
it, that has seen the rebellion that followed the
controversy here between Gomar and Arminius.
There must therefore be a judge of doctrines. But,
says the Bishop, not the king. Who then ? Shall
Dr. Bramhall be this judge ? As profitable an
office as it is, he was more modest than to say that.
Shall a private layman have it? No man ever
thought that. Shall it be given to a Presbyterian
minister ? No ; it is unreasonable. Shall a synod
of Presbyterians have it ? No ; for most of the

330 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

Presbyters in the primitive church were undoubt-
edly subordinate to bishops, and the rest were
bishops. Who then ? A synod of bishops ? Very
well. His Lordship being too modest to under-
take the whole power, would have been contented
with the six-and-twentieth part. But, suppose it
in a synod of bishops, who shall call them toge-
ther ? The king. What if he will not ? Who
should excommunicate him, or if he despise your
excommunication, who shall send forth a writ of
significavit ? No ; all this was far from his Lord-
ship's thoughts. The power of the clergy, unless
it be upheld legally by the king, or illegally by the
multitude, amounts to nothing. But for the mul-
titude, Suarez and the Schoolmen will never gain
them, because they are not understood. Besides
there be very few bishops that can act a sermon,
which is a puissant part of rhetoric, so well as
divers Presbyterians, and fanatic preachers can do.
I conclude therefore, that his Lordship could not
possibly believe that the supreme judicature in
matter of religion could any where be so well
placed as in the head of the church, which is the
king. And so his Lordship and I think the same
thing ; but because his Lordship knew not how to
deduce it, he was angry with me because I did it.
He says, further, that ht/ my principles, he that
hlasphemeth Christ at Cofistantinople, is a true
prophet ; as if a man that blasphemeth Christ, to
approve his blasphemy can procure a miracle.
For by my principles, no man is a prophet whose
prophesy is not confirmed by God with a miracle.
In the last place, out of this, that the lawful sove-
reign is the judge of prophesy, he deduces that

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 331

then Samuel and other prophets were false pro-
phets, that contested with their sovereigns. As
for Samuel, he was at that time the judge, that
is to say, the sovereign prince in Israel, and so
acknowledged by Saul. For Saul received the
kingdom from God himself, who had right to give
and take it, by the hands of Samuel. And God
gave it to himself only, and not to his seed ; though
if he had obeyed God, he would have settled it also
upon his seed. The commandment of God was,
that he should not spare Agag. Saul obeyed not.
God therefore sent to Samuel to tell him that he
was rejected. For all this, Samuel went not about
to resist Saul. That he caused Agag to be slain,
was with Saul's consent. Lastly, Saul confesses
his sin. Where is this contesting with Saul ? After
this God sent Samuel to anoint David, not that he
should depose Saul, but succeed him, the sons of
Saul having never had a right of succession. Nor
did ever David make war on Saul, or so much as
resist him, but fled from his persecution. But when
Saul was dead, then indeed he claimed his right
against the house of Saul. What rebellion or re-
sistance could his Lordship find here, either in
Samuel or in David ? Besides, all these transac
tions are supernatural, and oblige not to imitation.
Is there any prophet or priest now, that can set up
in England, Scotland, or Ireland, another king by
pretence of prophecy or religion ? What did Jero-
boam to the man of God (1 Kings xiii.) that pro-
phesied against the altar in Bethel without first
doing a miracle, but offer to seize him for speaking,
as he thought, rashly of the king's act ; and after
the miraculous withering of his hand, desire the

332 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

prophet to pray for him ? The siu of Jeroboam
was not his distrust of the prophet, but his idolatry.
He was the sole judge of the truth which the man
of God uttered against the altar, and the process
agreeable to equity. What is the story of Elijah
and Ahab ( 1 Kings xviii.), but a confirmation of the
right even of Ahab to be judge of prophecy ? Elijah
told Ahab, he had transgressed the commandment
of God. So may any minister now tell his sove-
reign, so he do it with sincerity and discretion.
Ahab told Elijah he troubled Israel. Upon this
controversy Elijah desired trial. Send, saith he,
and assemble all Israel ; assemble also the prophets
of Baal, foiu: hundred and fifty. Ahab did so. The
question is stated before the people thus: if the
Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, follow him.
Then upon the altars of God and Baal were laid
the wood and the bullocks ; and the cause was to
be judged by fire from heaven, to bum the sacri-
fices ; which Elijah procured, the prophets of Baal
could not prociure. Was not this cause here pleaded
before Ahab ? The sentence of Ahab is not re-
quired ; for Elijah from that time forward was no
more persecuted by Ahab, but only by his wife,
Jezabel. The story of Micaiah (2 Chron. xviii.) is
this. Ahab King of Israel consulted the prophets,
foiu: hundred in number, whether he should prosper
or not, in case he went with Jehoshaphat, king of
Judah, to fight against the Syrians at Ramoth-
gilead. The prophet Micaiah was also called, and
both the kings, Ahab and Jehoshaphat, sat together
to hear what they should prophecy. There was no
miracle done. The four hundred pronounced vic-
tory ; Micaiah alone the contrary. The king was

^.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 333

judge, and most concerned in the event ; nor had he
he received any revelation in the business. What
could he do more discreetly than to follow the coun-
sel of four hundred, rather than of one man ? But
the event was contrary ; for he was slain ; but not
for following the counsel of the four hundred, but
for his murder of Naboth, and his idolatry. It was
also a sin in him, that he afflicted Micaiah in
prison. But an unjust judgment does not take away
from any king his right of judicature. Besides,
what is all this, or that of Jeremiah which he cites
last, to the question of who is judge of Christian

doctrine ?
/. D. Neither doth he use God the Holy Ghost,

more favourably than God the Son. Where St.
Peter saith, holy men of God spake as they were
moved by the Holy Spirit ; he saith. By the spirit,
is meant the voice of God in a dream or vision
supernatural ; which dreams or visions, he maketh
to be no more than imaginations which they had
in their sleep, or in an extasy, which in every true
prophet were supernatural, but in false prophets
were eitlier natural or feigned, and more likely
to be false than true. To say, God hath spoken to
him in a dream, is no more than to say, he dreamed
that God spake to him, 8fc. To say, he hath seen
a vision or heard a voice, is to say, that he hath
dreamed between sleeping and waking. So St.
Peter's Holy Ghost, is come to be their own imagi^
nations, which might be either feigned, or mistaken,
or true. As if the Holy Ghost did enter only at
their eyes, and at their ears, not into their under-
standings, nor into their minds ; or as if the Holy
Ghost did not seal unto their hearts the truth and
assurance of their prophecies. Whether a new light

334 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

be infused into their understandings, or new graces
be inspired into their heart, they are wrought, or
caused, or created immediately by the Holy Ghost ;
and so are his imag'mations, if they be supernatural.

T. H. For the places of my Leviathan he cites,
they are all, as they stand, both true and clearly
proved. The setting of them down by fragments is
no refutation ; nor oflFers he any arguments against
them. His consequences are not deduced. I never
said that the Holy Ghost was an imagination, or a
dream, or a vision, but that the Holy Ghost spake
most often in the Scripture by dreams and visions
supernatural. The next words of his, as if the
Holy Ghost did enter only at their eyes, and at
their ears^ not into their understandings, nor into
their minds, I let pass, because I cannot under-
stand them. His last words. Whether new light,
8fc. I understand and approve.

/. Z). But he must needs fall into these absurdi-
ties, who maketh but a jest of inspiration. They
who pretend Divine inspiration to he a superna-
tural entering of the Holy Ghost into a man, are,
as he thinks, in a very dangerous dilemma ; for
\f they worship not the men whom they conceive to
he inspired, they fall into impiety ; and if they
worship them, they commit idolatry. So mistaking
the Holy Ghost to be corporeal, something that is
blown into a man, and the graces of the Holy Ghost
to be corporeal graces. And the words, inpoured
or irfused virtue, and, inhlown or inspired virtue,
are as absurd and as insignificant, as a round
quadrangle. He reckons it as a common error,
that faith and sanctity are not attained hy study
and reason, hut hy supernatural inspiration or
infusion. And layeth this for a firm ground ; faith

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 335

and sanctity are indeed not very frequent^ hut yet
they are not miracles, hut hrought to pass hy
education, discipline, correction, and other na-
tural ways. I would see the greatest Pelagian of
them all, fly higher.

T. H. I make here no jest of inspiration. Se-
riously, I say, that in the proper signification of the
words inspiration and infusion, to say virtue is
inspired, or infused, is as absurd as to say a quad-
rangle is round. But metaphorically, ifor God's
bestowing of faith, grace, or other virtue, those
words are intelligible enough.

J. D. Why should he trouble himself about the
Holy Spirit, who acknowledgeth no spirit, but
either a subtle fluid body, or a ghost, or other idol
or phantasm of the imagination ; who knoweth no
inward grace or intrinsical holiness ? Holy is a
word which in God's kingdom answereth to that,
which men in their kingdoms use to call puhlic,
or the king's. And again, wheresoever the word,
holy, is taken properly, there is still something
signified of propriety gotten hy consent. His
holiness is a relation, not a quality ; for inward
sanctification, or real infused holiness, (in respect
whereof the third person is called the Holy Ghost,
because he is not only holy in himself, but also
maketh us holy), he is so great a stranger to it, that
he doth altogether deny it, and disclaim it.

T. H. The word holy I had defined in the words
which his Lordship here sets down, and by the use
thereof in the Scripture made it manifest, that that
was the true signification of the word. There is
nothing in learning more difficult than to determine
the signification of words. That difficulty excuses

336 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

him. He says that holiness^ in my sense, is a re-
lation, not a quality. All the learned agree that
quality is an accident : so that in attributing to God
holiness J as a quality, he contradicts himself. For
he has in the beginning of this his discourse de-
nied, and rightly, that any accident is in God;
saying, whatsoever is in God is the Divine substance.
He affirms also, that to attribute any accident to
God, is to deny the simplicity of the Divine sub-
stance. And thus his Lordship makes God, as I
do, a corporeal spirit. Both here, and throughout,
he discovers so much ignorance, as had he charged
me with error only, and not with atheism, I should
not have thought it necessary to answer him.
, J. D. We are taught in our creed to believe the
catholic or universal church. But T. H. teacheth
us the contrary: That if tliere he more Christian
churches than one^ all of them together are not
one church personally. And more plainly : Now
if the whole number of Christians be not contained
in one commonwealth, they are not one person,
nor is there an universal church, that hath any
authority over them. And again: The universal
church is not one person, of which it can be said,
that it hath done, or decreed, or ordained, or
excommunicated, or absolved. This doth quite
overthrow all the authority of general councils.

All other men distinguish between the church
and the commonwealth ; only T. H. maketh them
to be one and the same thing. The commonwealth
of Christian men, and the church of the same,
are altogether the same thing, called by two
names for two reasons. For the matter of tlie
church and of the commonwealth is the same.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 337

namely y the same Christian men ; and the form
is the same, which consisteth in the lawful power
of convocating them. And hence he coneludeth,
that every Christian commonwealth is a church
endowed with all spiritual authority. And yet
more fully : The church if it he one person^ is the
same thing with the commonwealth of Christians ;
called a commonwealth^ because it consisteth of
men united in one person their sovereign ; and a
church, because it consisteth in Christian men
united in one Christian sovereign. Upon which
account there was no Christian church in these
parts of the world, for some hundreds of years after
Christ, because there was no Christian sovereign.

T. H. For answer to this period, I say only
this ; that taking the church, as I do, in all those
places, for a company of Christian men on earth
incorporated into one person, that can speak, :com-
mand, or do any act of a person, all that he citeth
out of what I have written is true ; and that all
private conventicles, though their belief be right,
are not properly called churches ; and that there
is not any one universal church here on earth,
which is a person indued with- authority universal
to govern all Christian men on earth, no more than
there is one universal sovereign prince or state on
earth, that hath right to govern all mankind. I
deny also that the whole clergy of a Christian
kingdom or state being assembled, are the repre-
sentative of that church further than the civil laws
permit ; or can lawfully assemble themselves,
unless by the command or by the leave of the
sovereign civil power. I say further, that the
denial of this point tendeth in England towards

VOL. IV. Z

338 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHAXL.

the taking away of the king's supremacy in causes
ecclesiastical. But his Lordship has not here de-
nied any thing of mine, because he has done no
more but set down my words. He says further,
that this doctrine destroys the authority of all
general councils ; which I confess. Nor hath any
general council at this day in this kingdom the
force of a law, nor ever had, but by the authority
of the king.

J. D. Neither is he more orthodox concerning
the holy Scriptures: hitherto y that is, for the books
of Moses, the power of making the Scripture
canonical, was in the civil sovereign. The like
he saith of the Old Testament, made canonical by
Esdras. And of the New Testament, that it wa^
not the apostles which made their own writings
canonical^ hut every convert made them so to him-
self", yet with this restriction, that until the
sovereign ruler had prescribed them, they were
hut counsel and advice, which whether good or
had, he that was counselled might without injus^
tice refuse to observe, and being contrary to the
laws established, could not without injustice oh^
serve. He maketh the primitive Christians to have
been in a pretty condition. Certainly the gospel
was contrary to the laws then established. But
most plainly, The word of the interpreter of the
Scripture is the word of God. And the same is
the interpreter of the Scripture, and the sovereign
judge of all doctrines, that is, the sovereign ma-
gistrate, to whose authority we must stand no less,
than to theirs, who at first did commend the
Scripture to us for the canon of faith. Thus if
Christian sovereigns, of diflFerent communications.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 339

do clash one with another, in their interpretation,
or misinterpretation of Scripture, as they do daily,
then the word of God is contradictory to itself; or
that is the word of God in one commonwealth,
which is the word of the Devil in another common-
wealth. And the same thing may be true, and not
true at the same time : which is the peculiar pri-
vilege of T. H. to make contradictories to be true
together.

T. H. There is no doubt but by what authority
the Scripture or any other writing is made a law,
by the same authority the Scriptures are to be in-
terpreted, or else they are made law in vain. But
to obey is one thing, to believe is another ; which
distinction perhaps his Lordship never heard of.
To obey is to do or forbear as one is commanded,
and depends on the will ; but to believe, depends
not on the will, but on the providence and guidance
of our hearts that are in the hands of God Almighty.
Laws only require obedience ; belief requires teach-
ers and arguments drawn either from reason, or
from some thing already believed. Where there
is no reason for our belief, there is no reason we
should believe. The reason why men believe, is
drawn from the authority of those men whom we
have no just cause to mistrust, that is, of such men
to whom no profit accrues by their deceiving us,
and of such men as never used to lie, or else from
the authority of such men whose promises, threats,
and affirmations, we have seen confirmed by God
with miracles. If it be not from the king's au-
thority that the Scripture is law, what other
authority makes it law ? Here some man being
of his Lordship's judgment, will perhaps laugh and

z 2

840 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

say^ it is the authority of God that makes them
law. I grant that. But my question is, on what
authority they believe that God is the author of
them ? Here his Lordship would have been at a
nonplus, and turning round, would have said the
authority of the Scripture makes good that God is
their author. If it be said we are to believe the
Scripture upon the authority of the universal
church, why are not the books we call Apocrypha
the word of God as well as the rest ? If this
authority be in the church of England, then it is
not any other than the authority of the head of
the church, which is the king. For without the
head the church is mute. The authority therefore is
in the king ; which is all that I contended for in
this point. As to the laws of the Gentiles, con-
cerning religion in the primitive times of the church,
I confess they were contrary to Christian faith. But
none of their laws, nor terrors, nor a man's own
will, are able to take away faith, though they can
compel to an external obedience ; and though I
may blame the Ethnic princes for compelling men
to speak what they thought not, yet I absolve not
all those that have had the power in Christian
churches from the same fault. For I believe, since
the time of the first four general coimcils, there
have been more Christians burnt and killed in the
Christian church by ecclesiastical authority, than by
the heathen emperors' laws, for religion only with-
out sedition. All that the Bishop does in this
argument is but a heaving at the King's supremacy.
Oh, but, says he, if two kings interpret a place of
Scripture in contrary senses, it will follow that
both senses are true. It does not follow. For the

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 341

»

interpretation, though it be made by just authority,
must not therefore always be true. If the doctrine
in the one sense be necessary to salvation, then
they that hold the other must die in their sins, and
be damned. But if the doctrine in neither sense
be necessary to salvation, then all is well, except
perhaps that they will call one another atheists,
and fight about it.

/. D. All the power, virtue, use, and efficacy,
which he ascribelli to the holy sacraments, is to be
signs or commemorations. As for any sealing, or
confirming, or conferring of grace, he acknow-
ledgeth nothing. The same he saith particularly
of baptism : upon which grounds a cardinal's red
hat, or a serjeant-at-arms his mace, may be called
sacraments as well as baptism, or the holy eucharist,
if they be only signs and commemorations of a
benefit. If he except, that baptism and the eucha-
rist are of Divine institution ; but a cardinal's red
hat or a serjeant-at-arms his mace are not : he saith
truly, but nothing to his advantage or purpose,
seeing he deriveth all the authority of the word and
sacraments, in respect of subjects, and all our obli-
gation to them, from the authority of the sovereign
magistrate, without which these words, Repent and
he baptized in the name of Jesus ^ are but counsel,
no command. And so a serjeant-at-arms his mace,
and baptism, proceed both from the same authority.
And this he saith upon this silly ground, that
nothing is a command^ the performance whereof
tendeth to our own benefit. He might as well deny
the Ten Commandments to be commands, because
they have an advantageous promise annexed to
them. Do this and thou shalt live ; and cursed is

342 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

every one that continueth not in all the words of
this law to do them.

T. H. Qli the sacraments I sidd no more^ than
that they are signs or commemorations. He finds
fEodt that I add not seals^ confirmations, and that
they corner grace. First, I wonld have asked him,
if a seal be any thing else besides a sign, whereby
to remember somewhat, as that we have promised,
accepted, acknowledged, given, undertaken some-
what. Are not other signs^ though without a sealy
of force sufficient to convince me or oblige me ? A
writing obligatory, or release, signed only with a
man's name, is as obligatory as a bond signed and
sealed, if it be sufficiently proved, though perad-
venture it may require a longer process to obtain
a sentence ; but his Lordship I think knew better
than I do the force of bonds and bills ; yet I know
this, that in the court of heaven there is no such
diflFerence between saying, signing, and sealing, as
his Lordship seemeth here to pretend. I am bap-
tized for a commemoration that I have enrolled
myself. I take the sacrament of the Lord's Supper
to commemorate that Christ's body was broken,
and his blood shed for my redemption. What is
there more intimated concerning the nature of
these sacraments, either in the Scripture or in the
book of Common Prayer ? Have bread and wine
and water in their own nature, any other quality
than they had before the consecration ? It is true
that the consecration gives these bodies a new re-
lation, as being a giving and dedicating of them to
God, that is to say a making of them holy, not a
changing of their quality. But as some silly young
men returning from France aflFect a broken English,

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 343

to be thought perfect in the French language ; so
his Lordship, I think, to seem a perfect under-
stander of the unintelligible language of the School-
men, pretends an ignorance of his mother-tongue.
He talks here of command and counsel, as if he
were no Englishman, nor knew any diflFerence
between their significations. What Englishman,
when he commandeth, says more than, Do this ;
yet he looks to be obeyed, if obedience be due unto
him. But when he says, Do this, and thou shalt
have such or such a reward, he encourages him,
or advises him, or bargains with him ; but commands
him not. Oh, the understanding of a Schoolman !

/. D. Sometimes he is for holy orders, and
giveth to the pastors of the church the right of
ordination and absolution, and infallibility, too
much for a particular pastor, or the pastors of one
particular church. // is manifest, that the conse-
cration of the chief est doctors in every church,
and imposition of hands, doth pertain to the
doctors of the same church. And, it cannot be
doubted of, but the power of binding and loosing
was given by Christ to the future pastors, ctfter
the same manner as to his present apostles. And,
our Saviour hath promised this infallibility in
those things which are necessary to salvation, to
his apostles, until the day of judgment, that is to
say, to the apostles, and pastors to be consecrated
by the apostles successively, by the imposition of
hands.

But at other times he casteth all this meal down
with his foot. Christian sovereigns are the su-
preme pastors, and the only persons whom Chris-
tians now hear speak from God, except such as

344 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHAU..

God speaheth to in these days supematurally.
What is now become of the promised infallibility ?
And, it is from the civil sovereign that aU other
pastors derive their right of teaching, preachings
and all other functions pertaining to thai office ;
and they are but his ministers in the same man-
ner as the magistrates of toums, or judges in
courts of justice, and commanders of armies.
What is now become of their ordination ? Magis-
trates, judges, and generals, need no precedent
qualifications. He maketh the pastoral authority
of sovereigns to be jure divino, of all other pas-
tors jure civili : he addeth, neither is there any
judge of heresy among subjects , but their own
civil sovereign.

Lastly^ the church excommunicateth no man but
whom she excommunicateth by the authority of
the prince. And, the effect of excommunication
hath fiothing in it, neither of damage in this
world, nor terror upon an apostate, if the civil
power did persecute or not assist the church:
and in the world to come, leaves them in no worse
estate, than those who never believed. The damage
rather redoundeth to the church. Neither is the
excommunication of a Christian subject, that
obeyeth the laivs of his own sovereign, of any
effect. Where is now their power of binding and
loosing ?

T. H. Here his Lordship condemneth, first my
too much kindness to the pastors of the church ;
as if I ascribed infallibility to every particular mi-
nister, or at least to the assembly of the pastors of
a particular church. But he mistakes me ; I never
meant to flatter them so much. I say only that

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 345

the ceremony of consecration, and imposition of
hands, belongs to them ; and that also no otherwise
than as given them by the laws of the conmion-
wealth. The bishop consecrates, but the king both
makes him bishop and gives him his authority.
The head of the church not only gives the power
of consecration, dedication, and benediction, but
may also exercise the act himself if he please.
Solomon did it ; and the book of canons says, that
the King of England has all the right that any
good king of Israel had ; it might have added, that
any other king or sovereign assembly had in their
own dominions. I deny that any pastor or any
assembly of pastors in any particular church, or
all the churches on earth though united, are infal-
lible : yet I say, the pastors of a Christian church
assembled are, in all such points as are necessary
to salvation. But about what points are necessary
to salvation, he and I diflFer. For I, in the forty-
third chapter of my Leviathanj have proved that
this article, Jesus is the Christy is the tmum neces-
sarium, the only article necessary to salvation ;
to which his Lordship hath not offered any objec-
tion. And he, it seems, would have necessary to
salvation every doctrine he himself thought so.
Doubtless in this article, Jesus is the Christ, every
church is infallible ; for else it were no church.
Then he says, I overthrow this again by saying
that Christian sovereigns are the supreme pastors,
that is, heads of their own churches ; That they
have their authority jure divino ; that all other
pastors have it jure civili. How came any Bishop
to have authority over me, but by letters patent
from the king ? I remember a parliament wherein

346 Ji% AKSWEm TO bishop Pg^^ff^"

a bishop, wtho was bodi a good preacher and a
good man, was blamed for a book he had a litde
before poUished in maintenance of ihejMS ditimmm
of bishops ; a thing which before the refiNrmation
here, was never allowed them by the pope. Two
/ujf ditlnmwu cannot stand together in one king^
douL In the last place he misUkes that the church
should excommunicate by authority of the king,
that is to say, by authority of the head of the
church. But he tells not why. He might as well
mislike that the magistrates of the realm should
execute their oflKces by the authority of the head
of the realm. His Lordship was in a great error^
if he thought such encroachments would add any
thing to the wealth, dignity, reverence, or continu-
ance of his order. They are pastors of pastors,
but yet they are the sheep of him that is on earth
their sovereign pastor, and he again a sheep of that
supreme pastor which is in heaven. And if they
did their pastoral office, both by life and doctrine,
as they ought to do, there could never arise any
dangerous rebellion in the land. But if the people
see once any ambition in their teachers, they will
sooner learn that, than any other doctrine ; and
from ambition proceeds rebellion.

/. D. It may be some of T. H. his disciples
desire to know what hopes of heavenly joys they
have upon their master's principles. They may
hear them without any great contentment : There
is no mention in Scripture, nor ground in reason^
of the coelum empyrtBum^ that is, the heaven of
the blessed, where the saints shall live eternally
with God. And again, / have not found any text
that can probably be drawn to prove any ascen^

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 347

sion of the saints into heaven, that is to say^ into
any ccelum empyrceum. But he concludeth posi-
tively, that Salvation shall he upon earth, when
God shall reign at the coming of Christ in
Jerusalem. And again, In short, the kingdom of
God is a civil kingdom, &c. called also the king-
dom of heaven, and the kingdom of glory. All
the Hobbians can hope for, is, to be restored to
the same condition which Adam was in before his
fall. So saith T. H. himself: From whence may he
inferred, that the elect, cfter the resurrection,
shall he restored to the estate wherein Adam was
hefore he had sinned. As for the beatifical vision,
he defineth it to be a word imintelligible.

T. H. This ccelum empyrteum for which he pre-
tendeth so much zeal, where is it in the Scripture,
where in the book of Common Prayer, where in
the canons, where in the homilies of the church of
England, or in any part of our religion ? What has
a Christian to do with such language ? Nor do I
remember it in Aristotle. Perhaps it may be in
some Schoolman or commentator on Aristotle, and
his Lordship makes it in English the heaven of
the blessed, as if empyr(jeum signified that which
belongs to the hlessed. St. Austin says better ;
that after the day of judgment all that is not hea-
ven shall be hell. Then for beatifical vision, how
can any man understand it, that knows from the
Scripture that no man ever saw or can see God.
Perhaps his Lordship thinks that the happiness of
the life to «ome is not real, but a vision. As for that
which I say {Leviathan, p. 625), I have answered
to it already.

/. D. But considering his other principles, I do

348 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

not marvel much at his extravagance in this point.
To what purpose should a ccelum empyraum, or
heaven of the blessed, serve in his judgment, who
maketh the blessed angels that are the inhabitants
of that happy mansion, to be either idols of the
brain, that is in plain English, nothing, or thin,
subtile, fluid bodies, destropng the angelical nature.
The universe being the aggregate of all bodies,
there is no real part thereof that is not also body.
And elsewhere. Every part of the universe is
body J and that which is not body^ is no part of
the universe. And because the universe is allj
that which is no part of it is nothifig, and con-
sequently nowhere. How ? By this doctrine he
maketh not only the angels, but God himself to be
nothing. Neither doth he salve it at all, by sup-
posing erroneously angels to be corporeal spirits,
and by attributing the name of incorporeal spirit
to God, as being a name of more honour, in whom
we consider not what attribute best expresseth
his nature, which is incomprehensible, but what
best expresseth our desire to honour him. Though
we be not able to comprehend perfectly what God
is, yet we are able perfectly to comprehend what
God is not, that is, he is not imperfect, and there-
fore he is not finite, and consequently he is not
corporeal. This were a trim way to honour God
indeed, to honour him with a lie. If this that he
says here be true, that every part of the universe is
a body, and whatsoever is not a body is nothing,
then, by this doctrine, if God be not a body, God
is nothing : not an incorporeal spirit, but one of
the idols of the brain, a mere nothing, though they
think they dance under a net, and have the blind

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 349

of God's incomprehensibility between them and
discovery.

T. H. This of incorporeal substance he urged
before, and there I answered it. I wonder he so
often rolls the same stone. He is like Sisyphns
in the poet's hell, that there rolls a heavy stone np
a hill, which no sooner he brings to day-light, than
it slips down again to the bottom, and serves him
so perpetually. For so his Xiordship rolls this and
other questions with much ado, tiU they come to
the light of Scripture, and then they vanish ; and
he vexing, sweating, and railing, goes to it again,
to as little purpose as before. From that I say of
the universe, he infers, that I make God to be no-
thing : but infers it absurdly. He might indeed
have inferred that I make him a corporeal, but yet
a pure spirit. I mean by the universe, the aggre-
gate of all things that have being in themselves ;
and so do all men else. And because God has a
bemg, it follows that he is either the whole universe,
or part of it. Nor does his Lordship go about to
disprove it, but only seems to wonder at it.

J. D. To what purpose should a coelum empy*
raum serve in his judgment, who denieth the im-
mortality of the soul ? The doctrine is now, and
hath been a long time, Jar otherwise; namely, that
every man hath eternity of life by nature, inas^
much as his soul is immortal. Who supposeth that
when a man dieth, there remaineth nothing of him
but his carcase 9 Who maketh the word soul in
Holy Scripture to signify always either the life, or
the living creature ; and expoundeth the casting of
body and soul into hell-fire, to be the casting of
body and life into hell-fire 9 Who maketh this

350 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

orthodox truth, that the souls of men are substances
distinct from their bodies, to be an error contracted
hy the contagion of the iUmonology of the Greeks y
and a window that gives entrance to the dark
doctrine of eternal torments 9 Who expoundeth
these words of Solomon (Then shall the dust re-
turn to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall
return to God that gate it) thus, God only knows
what becometh of a mans spirit when he expireth9
He will not acknowledge that there is a spirit, or any
substance distinct from the body. I wonder what
they think doth keep their bodies from stinking.

T. H. He comes here to that which is a great
paradox in School-divinity. The grounds of my
opinion are the canonical Scripture, and the texts
which I cited I must again recite, to which I shall
also add some others. My doctrine is this : first,
that the elect in Christy from the day of judg-
ment forward, by virtue of Christ's passion and
victory over death, shall enjoy eternal life, that
isy they shall be immortal. Secondly, that tJiere
is no living soul separated in place from the
body, more than there is a living body separated
from the soul. Thirdly, that the reprobate shall
be revived to judgment, and shall die a second
death in torments, which death shall be ever-
lasting. Now let us consider what is said to these
points in the Scripture, and what is the harmony
therein of the Old and New Testament.

And first, because the word immortal soul, is
not found in the Scriptures, the question is to be de-
cided by evident consequences from the Scripture.
The Scripture saith of God expressly (1 Tim.vi. 16)
that He only hath immortality, and dwelleth in

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 351

inaccessible light. Hence it followeth that the
soul of man is not of its own nature immortal, but
by grace, that is to say, by the gift of God. And
then the question will be, whether this grace or
gift of God were bestowed on the soul in the crea-
tion and conception of the man, or afterwards by
his redemption. Another question will be, in what
sense immortality of torments can be called a gift,
when all gifts suppose the thing given to be grate-
ful to the receiver. To the first of these, Christ
himself saith (Luke xiv. 13, 14) : When thou mdkest
a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the
blind : and thou shall be blessed, for they cannot
recompense thee : for thou shall be recompensed
at the resurrection of them that be just. It fol-
lows hence that the reward of the elect is not be-
fore the resurrection. What reward then enjoys
a separated soul in heaven, or any where else, till
that day come, or what has he to do there till the
body rise again ? Again, St. Paul says (Rom. ii.
6-8) : God will render to every mmi according to
his works. To them, who by patient continuance
in well doing seek for honour, glory, and im~
mortality, eternal life. But unto them that be
contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey
unrighteousness, indignation and wrath. Here
it is plain that God gives eternal life only to well
doers, and to them that seek, not to them that have
already, immortality. Again (2 Tim.i. 10) : Christ
hath abolished death, and brought life and immor-
tality to light, through the Gospel. Therefore
before the Gospel of Christ, nothing was immortal
but God. And St. Paul, speaking of the day of
judgment (1 Cor. xv. 54), saith, that this mortal

352 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

nhall put on immortality^ and that then death
is swallowed up in victory. There was no immor-
tality of any thing mortal till death was overcome,
and that was at the resurrection. And John, viii. 5 1 :
Verily^ verily^ if a man keep my sayings he shall
never see death ; that is to say, he shall be im^
mortal. But it is nowhere said, that he which
keeps not Christ's sayings shall never see death,
nor be immortal : and yet they that say that the
wicked, body and soul, shall be tormented ever-
lastingly, do therein say they are immortal. Matth.
X. 28 : Fear not them that can kill the body, but
are not able to kill the soul ; but fear him that is
able to destroy both soul and body in hell. Man
cannot kill a soul ; for the man killed shall revive
again. But God can destroy the soul and body in
hell, as that it shall never return to life. In the
Old Testament (Gen. vii. 4) we read : / will destroy
every living substance that I have made, fro^n off
the face of the earth; therefore, if the souls of them
that perished in the Flood were substances, they
were also destroyed in the Flood, and were not im-
mortal. Matth. XXV. 4 1 : Depart from me, ye
cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the
devil and his angels. These words are to be
spoken in the day of judgment, which judgment is
to be in the clouds. And there shall stand the
men that are reprobated alive, where souls, accord-
ing to his Lordship's doctrine, were sent long before
to hell. Therefore at that present day of judg-
ment they had one soul by which they were there
alive, and another soul in hell. How his Lordship
could have maintained this, I understand not. But
by my doctrine, that the soul is not a separated

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHAtL. 353

substance, but that the man at his resurrection
shall be revived by God, and raised to judgment,
and afterwards body and soul destroyed in hell-fire,
which is the second death, there is no such con-
sequence or difficulty to be inferred. Besides, it
avoids the unnecessary disputes about where the
soul of Lazarus was for four days he lay dead.
And the order of the divine process is made good,
of not inflicting torments before the condemnation
pronounced.

Now as to the harmony of the two Testaments,
it is said in the Old (Gen. ii. 17): In the day that
them eatest of the tree of knowledge^ dying thou
shalt die : moriendo morieris : that is, when thou
art dead thou shalt not revive ; for so hath Atha-
nasius expounded it. Therefore Adam and Eve
were not immortal by their creation. Then (Gen.
iii. 22) : Behold the man is become as one of us :
now lest he put forth his hand and take also of
the tree of life^ and eat^ and live for ever, 8fc.
Here they had had an immortality by the gift of
God if they had not sinned. It was therefore sin that
lost them eternal life. He therefore that redeemed
them from sin was the author of their immortality,
which consequently began in the day of judgment,
when Adam and Eve were again made alive by
admission to the new tree of life, which was Christ.

Now let us compare this with the New Testa-
ment ; where we find these words (I Cor. xv. 21) :
since hy man came deaths hy man came also the
resurrection of the dead. Therefore all the im-
mortality of the soul, that shall be after the resur-
rection, is by Christ, and not by the nature of the
soul. Verse 22 : As hy Adam 'all die^ even so in

VOL. IV. A A

rR^teamcuiL ir i&. iiac s.. afagr ^3i& icsairectioii*
n 'tr MM iwrnmr- T^ist^xe wsbt ^odl be

mmOB libr^ Tal ':hit mmfnir ir C&ekk. Lasdr,

trsm f^r ouiVcAK •^' ^tmi mad m/« /Jbs dkil^

kim. s Irn^ 1 jnur rme j&sr: io vkem Clirist had
soi "^ :3if ^aosf ni "fut crwBu iiw dby IAmi shalt
wnik me m Pmi wtf jny tci hr lalinJ lum to lie
cH Qie- SQKn^ resozrerttm. for no man rase
firan tbe^ dead befixr onr SaTioar^s ciHiiiiig,

If God bescoved iHMOfftaiitT on ererr man then
he iKade him. and he made many to whom
he nerer parpoeed to sire his saving grace, what
did hb Lonkhip think that God gave any man im-
mortaKty with parpo&e onhr to make him csipable
of immortal torments r It is a hard saying, and I
think cannot pioosly be believed. I am sore it can
never be proved by the canonical Scripture.

Bat though I have made it clear that it cannot
be drawn by lawful consequence firom Scripture,
that man was created with a soul immortal, and
that the elect only, by the grace of God in Christ,
shall both bodies and souls from the resurrection
forward be immortal ; yet there may be a conse-
quence well drawn from some words in the rites of
burial, that prove the contrary, as these : Foras-
much as it hath pleased Almighty God of his
great mercy y to take unto himself the soul of our

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 355

dear brother here departed, &c. And these :
Almighty God, with whom do live the spirits of
them that depart hence in the Lord : which are
words authorised by the church. I wonder his
Lordship, that had so often pronounced them, took
no notice of them here. But it often happens that
men think of those things least, which they have
most perfectly learnt by rote. I am sorry I could
not, without deserting the sense of Scripture and
mine own conscience, say the same. But I see no
just cause yet, why the church should be offended
at it. For the church of England pretendeth not,
as doth the church of Rome, to be above the Scrip-
ture ; nor forbiddeth any man to read the Scrip-
ture; nor was I forbidden, when I wrote my
Z^ta/Aa^, to publish anything which the Scriptures
suggested. For when I wrote it, I may safely say
there was no lawful church in England, that could
have maintained me in, or prohibited me from
writing anything. There was no bishop; and
though there was preaching, such as it was, yet
no common prayer. For extemporary prayer,
though made in the pulpit, is not common prayer.
There was then no church in England, that any
man living was bound to obey. What I write
here at this present time I am forced to in my
defence, not against the church, but against the
accusations and arguments of my adversaries. For
the church, though it excommunicates for scanda-
lous life, and for teaching false doctrines, yet it
professeth to impose nothing to be held as faith,
but what may be warranted by Scripture : and this
the church itself saith in the twentieth of the
Thirty-nine Articles of religion. And therefore I

A A2

356 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

am permitted to allege Scripture at any time in the
defence of my belief.

J. Z). But they that in one case are grieved, in
another must be relieved. If perchance T. H. hath
given his disciples any discontent in his doctrine
of heaven and the holy angels, and the glorified
souls of the saints, he will make them amends in
his doctrine of hell, and the devils, and the damned
spirits. First of the devils ; he fimcieth that ail
tiiose devils which our Saviour did cast out, were
phrenzies ; and all demoniacs, or persons possessed,
no other than madmen: and to justify our Sa^
viour*s speaking to a disease as to a person, pro-
duceth the example of enchanters. But he declareth
himself most clearly upon this subject, in his ani-
madversions upon my reply to his defence of fatal
destiny. There are in the Scripture two sorts of
things which are in English translated devils.
One is that which is called Satan, Diabolus
Abaddon, which signijieth in English an enemy, an
accuser, and a destroyer of the church of God ;
in which sense the devils are hut wicked men.
The other sort of devils are called in the Scrip-
ture Dcemonia, which are the feigned Gods of
the heathen, and are neither bodies nor spiri-
tual substances, but mere fancies, and fictions
of terrified hearts, feigned by the Greeks, and
other heathen people, which St. Paul calleth
nothings. So T. H. hath killed the great infernal
Devil, and all his black angels, and left no devils
to be feared, but devils incarnate, that is, wicked
men.

T. H. As for the first words cited {Leviathan^
vol. iii. p. 68) I refer the reader to the place itself;

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 357

and for the words concerning Satan, I leave them
to the judgment of the learned.

«/. D. And for hell, he describeth the kingdom
of Satan^ or the kingdom of darkness, to be a con-
federacy of deceivers. He telleth us that the
places, which set forth the torments of hell in holy
Scripture, do design metaphorically a grief and
discontejit of mindyfrom the sight of that eternal
felicity in others, which they themselves, through
their own incredulity and disobedience ^ have lost.
As if metaphorical descriptions did not bear sad
truths in them, as well as literal ; as if final despe-
ration were no more than a little fit of grief or
discontent ; and a guilty conscience were no more
than a transitory passion ; as if it were a loss so
easily to be borne, to be deprived for evermore of
the beatifical vision ; and lastly, as if the damned,
besides that unspeakable loss, did not likewise
suffer actual torments, proportionable in some mea-
sure to their own sins, and God's justice.

T. H. That metaphors bear sad truths in them,
I deny not. It is a sad thing to lose this present
life untimely. Is it not therefore much more a sad
thing to lose an eternal happy life ? And I believe
that he which will venture upon sin, with such
danger, will not stick to do the same notwithstand-
ing the doctrine of eternal torture. Is it not also
a sad truth, that the kingdom of darkness should
be a confederacy of deceivers ?

J. D. Lastly, for the damned spirits, he declareth

himself every where, that their sufferings are not

eternal. Tliefire shall he unquenchable^ and the

torments everlasting ; but it cannot be thence in^

f erred, that he who shall be cast into that fire, or

358 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

be tormented with those torments, shall endure and
resist them, so as to he eternally burnt and tor-
tured, and yet never be destroyed nor die. And
though there be many places, that cfffirm ever^
lasting fire, into which men may be cast succes-
sively one after another for ever ; yet I find none
that qffirm that there shall be an everlasting life
therein of any individual person. If he had said,
and said only, that the pains of the damned may
be lessened, as to the degree of them, or that they
endure not for ever, but that after they are purged
by long torments from their dross and corruptions,
as gold in the fire, both the damned spirits and the
devils themselves should be restored to a better
condition ; he might have found some ancients (who
are therefore called the merciful doctors) to have
joined with him ; though still he should have wanted
the suflrage of the Catholic church.

T. H. Why does not his Lordship cite some
place of Scripture here to prove, that all the repro-
bates which are dead, live eternally in torment ?
We read indeed, that everlasting torments were
prepared for the Devil and his angels, whose natures
also are everlasting ; and that the Beast and the
false prophet shall be tormented everlastingly;
but not that every reprobate shall be so. They shall
indeed be cast into the same fire ; but the Scripture
says plainly enough, that they shall be both body
and soul destroyed there. If I had said 'that the
devils themselves should be restored to a better
condition, his Lordship would have been so kind
as to have put me into the number of the merciful
doctors. Truly, if I had had any warrant for the
possibility of their being less enemies to the church

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 359

of God than they have been, I would have been as
mercifiil to them as any doctor of them all. As it
is, I am more merciful than the Bishop.

J. D. But his shooting is not at rovers, but
altogether at random, without either precedent or
partner. All that eternal fire^ all those torments
which he acknowledgeth, is but this, that after
the resurrection, the reprobate shall he in tlie
estate that Adam and his posterity were in, cvfter
the sin committed, saving that God promised a
redeemer to Adam and not to them : adding, that
they shall live as they did formerly, marry and
give in marriage; and consequently engender
children perpetually cfter the resurrection, as
they did before : which he calleth an immortality
of the kind, but not of the persons of men. It is
to be presumed, that in those their second lives,
knowing certainly from T. H. that there is no hope
of redemption for them from corporal death upon
their well-doing, nor fear of any torments ^er
death for their ill-doing, they will pass their times
here as pleasantly as they can. This is all the
damnation which T. H. fancieth.

T. H. This he has urged once before, and I
answered to it, that the whole paragraph was to
prove, that for any text of Scripture to the contrary,
men might, after the resurrection, live as Adam did
on earth ; and that, notwithstanding the text of St.
Luke, (chap. xx. 34-36), Marry and propagate.
But that they shall do so, is no assertion of mine.
His Lordship knew I held, that after the resurrec-
tion there shall be at all no wicked men; but the elect
(all that are, have been, and hereafter shall be) shall
live on earth. But St. Peter (2 Epist. iii. 1 3) says,
there shall then be a new heaven and a new earth.

360 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

/. D. In sum I leave it to the free judgment of
the understanding reader, by these few instances
which follow, to judge what the Hobbian principles
are in point of religion. Ex ungue leonem.

First, that no man needs to put himself to any
hazard for his faith, but may safely comply with
the times. And for their faith it is internal and
invisible. They have the licence that Naaman had,
and need not put themselves into danger for it.

Secondly, he alloweth subjects, being commanded
by their sovereign, to deny Christ. Profession with
the tongtte is hut an external things and no more
than any other gesture^ whereby we signify our
obedience : and wherein a Christian^ /loiding
firmly in his heart the faith of Christy hath the
same liberty which the prophet EUsha allowed to
Naaman, 8fc. who by bowing before the idol
Rimmony denied the true God as much in effect,
as if he had done it with his lips. Alas, why did
St. Peter weep so bitterly for denying his master,
out of fear of his life or members ? It seems he
was not acquainted with these Hobbian principles.
And in the same place he layeth down this general
conclusion : This we may say^ that whatsoever a
subject is compelled to, in obedience to his sove-
reigfiy and doth it not in order to his own mind,
but in order to the laws of his countryy that ac-
tion is not hiSy but his sovereigns ; nor is it hCy
that in this case denieth Christ before meny but
his governor and the law of his country. His
instance, in a Mahometan commanded by a Chris-
tian prince to be present at divine service, is a
weak mistake, springing from his gross ignorance
in case-divinity, not knowing to distinguish be-

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 361

tween an erroneous conscience, as the Mahometan's
is, and a conscience rightly informed.

T. H. In these his two first instances, I confess
his Lordship does not much belie me. But neither
does he confute me. Also I confess my ignorance
in his case-divinity, which is grounded upon the
doctrine of the Schoolmen; who to decide cases
of conscience, take in, not only the Scriptures, but
also the decrees of the popes of Rome, for the
advancing of the dominion of the Roman church
over consciences; whereas the true decision of
cases of consciences ought to be grounded only on
Scripture, or natural equity. I never allowed the
denying of Christ with the tongue in all men, but
expressly say the contrary (LeviathaUy vol. iii. p.
656) in these words : For an unlearned man that
is in tlie power of an idolatrous king or state, if
commanded on pain of death to worship before an
idol, he detesteth the idol in his heart, he doth well;
though if he had tJie fortitude to suffer death ra-
ther than worship it, he should do better. But if a
pastor, who as Christ*s messenger has undertaken
to teach Chris fs doctrine to all nations^ should do
the sam£, it were not only a sinful scandal in re-
spect of other Christian men^s consciences, but a
perfidious forsaking of his charge. Therefore St.
Peter, in denying Christ, sinned, as being an apostle.
And it is sin in every man that should now take
upon him to preach against the power of the Pope,
to leave his commission unexecuted for fear of the
fire ; but in a mere traveller, not so. The three
children and Daniel were worthy champions of the
true religion. But God requireth not of every man
to be a champion. As for his Lordship's words of

362 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHAIX.

complying with the times, they are not mine, but
his own spitefol paraphrase.

J. D. Thirdly, if this be not enongh, he giveth
licence to a Christian to commit idolatry, or at
least to do an idolatrous act, for fear of death or
corporal danger. To pray unto a king tfolunta-
rily for fair weather, or for anything which
God only can do for us, is Divine worship, and
idolatry. On the other side, if a king compel a
man to it by the terror of death, or other great
corporal punishment, it is not idolatry. His
reason is, because it is not a sign, that he doth
inwardly honour him as a God, hut that he is
desirous to save himself from death, or from a
miserable life. It seemeth T. H. thinketh there
is no Divine worship but internal : and that it is
lawful for a man to value his own life or his limbs
more than his God. How much is he wiser than
the three children, or Daniel himself, who were
thrown, the first into a fiery furnace, the last into
the Uons' den, because they refused to comply with
the idolatrous decree of their sovereign prince ?

T. H. Here also my words are truly cited. But
his Lordship understood not what the word wor-
ship signifies ; and yet he knew what I meant by
it. To think highly of God, as I had defined it, is
to honour him. But to think is internal. To wor-
ship, is to signify that honour, which we inwardly
give, by signs external. This understood, as by
his Lordship it was, all he says to it, is but a cavil.

J. D. A fourth aphorism may be this, that,
which is said in the Scripture, it is better to obey
God than man, hath place in the kingdom of God
by pact, and not by nature. Why ? Nature itself

AN AN8WBR TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 363

doth teach ns it is better to obey God than men.
Neither can he say that he intended this only of
obedience in the use of indiflferent actions and
gestures, in the service of God, commanded by the
commonwealth : for that is to obey both God and
man. But if Divine law and human law clash one
with another, without doubt it is evermore better
to obey God than man.

T. H. Here again appears his unskilfiilness in
reasoning. Who denies, but it is always, and in
all cases, better to obey God than man? But
there is no law, neither Divine nor human, that
ought to be taken for a law, till we know what it
is ; and if a Divine law, till we know that God hath
commanded it to be kept. We agree that the
Scriptures are the word of God. But they are a
law by pact, that is, to us who have been baptized
into the covenant. To all others it is an invitation
only to their own benefit. It is true that even
nature suggesteth to us that the law of God is to
be obeyed rather than the law of man. But nature
does not suggest to us that the Scripture is the law
of God, much less how every text of it ought to be
interpreted. But who then shall suggest this ?
Dr. Bramhall ? I deny it. Who then ? The stream
of divines ? Why so ? Am I, that have the Scrip-
ture itself before my eyes, obliged to venture my
eternal life upon their interpretation, how learned
soever they pretend to be, when no counter-security,
that they can give me, will save me harmless ? If
not the stream of divines, who then ? The lawful
assembly of pastors, or of bishops ? But there can
be no lawful assembly in England without the
authority of the King. The Scripture, therefore.

364 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

what it is, and how to be interpreted, is made
known unto us here, by no other way than the
authority of our sovereign lord both in temporals
and spirituals, the King's Majesty. And where he
has set forth no interpretation, there I am allowed
to follow my own, as well as any other man, bishop
or not bishop. For my own part, all that know
me, know also it is my opinion, that the best
government in religion is by episcopacy, but in the
King's right, not in their own. But my Lord of
Deny, not contented with this, would have the
utmost resolution of our faith to be into the doc-
trine of the Schools. I do not think that all the
bishops be of his mind. If they were, I would
wish them to stand in fear of that dreadful sen-
tence, all covet, all lose. I must not let pass
these words of his Lordship, if Divine law and
human law clash one with another, without doubt
it is better evermore to obey God than man.
Where the king is a Christian, believes the Scrip-
ture, and hath the legislative power both in church
and state, and maketh no laws concerning Chris-
tian faith, or Divine worship, but by the counsel of
his bishops whom he trusteth in that behalf ; if the
bishops counsel him aright, what clashing can
there be between the Divine and human laws ?
For if the civil law be against God's law, and the
bishops make it clearly appear to the king that it
clasheth with Divine law, no doubt he will mend it
by himself, or by the advice of his parliament ;
for else he is no professor of Christ's doctrine,
and so the clashing is at an end. But if they think
that every opinion they hold, though obscure and
unnecessary to salvation, ought presently to be

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 365

law, then there will be elashings innumerable, not
only of laws, but also of swords, as we have found
it too true by late experience. But his Lordship
is still at this, that there ought to be, for the
Divine laws, that is to say for the interpretation of
Scripture, a legislative power in the church, dis-
tinct from that of the King, which under him they
enjoy already. This I deny. Then for clashing
between the civil laws of infidels with the law of
God, the apostles teach that those their civil laws
are to be obeyed, but so as to keep their faith in
Christ entirely in their hearts ; which is an obe-
dience easily performed. But I do not believe
that Augustus Caesar or Nero was bound to make
the holy Scripture law ; and yet unless they did so,
they could not attain to eternal life.

J. D. His fifth conclusion may be, that the sharp-
est and most successful sword, in any war whatso-
ever, doth give sovereign power and authority to
him that hath it, to approve or reject all sorts of
theological doctrines, concerning the kingdom of
God, not according to their truth or falsehood, but
according to that influence which they have upon
political affairs. Hear him : hut because this doc-
trine will appear to most men a novelty^ I do but
propound it, maintaining nothing in this or any
other paradox of religion, but attending the end
of that dispute of the sword concerning the
authority (not yet amongst my countrymen de-
cided) by which all sorts of doctrine are to be
approved or rejected, &c. For, the points of
doctrine concerning the kingdom of God, have
so great injluence upon the kingdom of man, as

366 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

not to be determined, but by them that under God
have the sovereign power.

Careat successibus opto,

»»

Quisquis ab eveotu facta ootanda putat.*

Let him evermore want success who thinketh
actions are to be judged by their events. This
doctrine may be plausible to those who desire to
fish in troubled waters. But it is justly hated by
those which are in authority, and all those who are
lovers of peace and tranquillity-

The last part of this conclusion smelleth rankly of
Jeroboam (1 Kings xii. 26-28) : Now shall the king-
dam return to the house of David, if this people
go up to do sacrifice in the house of the Lord at
Jerusalem; whereupon the king took counsel, and
made two calves of gold, and said unto them, it is
too much for you to go up to Jerusalem, behold
thy Gods, O Israel, which brought thee out of
the land of Egypt. But by the just disposition
of Almighty God, this policy turned to a sin, and
was the utter destruction of Jeroboam and his fa-
mily. It is not good jesting with edge-tools, nor
playing with holy things : where men make their
greatest fastness, many times they find most danger.

T. H. His Lordship either had a strange con-
science, or understood not English. Being at Paris
when there was no bishop nor church in England,
and every man writ what he pleased, I resolved
(when it should please God to restore the autho-
rity ecclesiastical) to submit to that authority, in
whatsoever it should determine. This his Lord-
ship construes for a temporizing and too much

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 367

indiflferency in religion ; and says further, that the
last part of my words do smell of Jeroboam. To
the contrary, I say my words were modest, and
such as in duty I ought to use. And I profess still,
that whatsoever the church of England (the church,
I say, not every doctor) shall forbid me to say in
matter of faith, I shall abstain from saying it,
excepting this point, that Jesus Christ, the S071
of Gody died for my sins. As for other doctrines,
I think it unlawful, if the church define them, for
any member of the church to contradict them.

J. D. His sixth paradox is a rapper : The civil
laws are the rules of good and evil, just and
unjust y honest and dishonest ; and therefore what
the lawgiver commandsy that is to he accounted
goody what he forhidsy had. And a little after :
Before empires werCy just and unjust were noty as
whose nature is relative to a command, every ac-
tion in its own nature is indifferent. That is, just
or unjust proceedeth from the right of him that
commandeth. Therefore lawful kings make those
things which they command justy by commanding
themy and those things which they forhidy unjust
by forbidding them. To this add his definition of
a sin, that which one dothy or omitteth, saithy or
willethy contrary to tlie reason of the common-
wealthy that iSy the (civil) laws. Where by the
laws he doth not understand the written laws,
elected and approved by the whole commonwealth,
but the verbal commands or mandates of him that
hath the sovereign power, as we find in many places
of his writings. The civil laws are nothing else
but the commands of Am, that is endowed with
sovereign power in the comfnonwealth, concerning

368 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

the future actions of his subjects. And the civil
laws are fastened to the lips of that man who
hath the sovereign power.

Where are we ? In Europe ? or in Asia, where
they ascribed a divinity to their kings, and, to use
his own phrase, made them mortal gods ; O Jtingy
live for ever ? Flatterers are the common moths of
great palaces, where Alexander's friends are more
numerous than the king's friends. But such gross,
palpable, pernicious flattery as this is, I did never
meet with, so derogatory both to piety and policy.
What deserveth he who should do his uttermost
endeavoxu* to poison a common fountain, whereof
all the commonwealth must drink ? He doth the
same who poisoneth the mind of a sovereign prince.

Are the civil laws the rules of good and bad^
just and unjust, honest and dishonest ? And what,
I pray you, at'e the rules of the civil law itself?
Even the law of God and Nature. If the civil laws
swerve from these more authentic laws, they are
Lesbian rules. What the lawgiver commands is
to be accounted good, what he forbids, bad. This
was just the garb of the Athenian sophisters, as
they are described by Plato. Whatsoever pleased
the great beast, the multitude, they call holy, and
just, and good. And whatsoever the great beast
disliked, they called evil, unjust, profane. But he
is not yet arrived at the height of his flattery.
Lawful kings make those things, which they com^
mand, just by commanding them. At other times,
when he is in his right wits, he talketh of sufferings,
and expecting their reward in heaven. And going
to Christ by martyrdom. And if he had the for-
titude to suffer death he shoidd do better. But

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 369

I fear all this was hut said in jest. How should
they expect their reward in heaven, if his doctrine
be true, that there is no reward in heaven ? Or
how should they be martyrs, if his doctrine be true,
that none can be martyrs^ hut those who conversed
with Christ upon earth ? He addeth, before em^
pires were J just and unjust were not. Nothing
could be written more false in his sense, more dis-
honourable to God, more inglorious to the human
nature; than that God should create man, and leave
him presently without any rules, to his own order-
ing of himself, as the ostrich leaveth her eggs in
the sand. But in truth there have been empires in
the world ever since Adam. And Adam had a law
written in his heart by the finger of God, before
there was any civil law. Thus they do endeavour
to make goodness, and justice, and honesty, and
conscience, and God himself, to be empty names,
without any reality, which signify nothing, further
than they conduce to a man*s interest. Otherwise
he would not, he could not, say, that every action
as it is invested with its circumstances , is indif-
ferent in its own nature.

T. H. My sixth paradox he calls a rapper. A
rapper, a swapper, and such like terms, are his
Lordship's elegancies. But let us see what this
rapper is : it is this ; the civil laws are the rules of
good and evil, just and unjust, honest and dishonest.
Truly, I see no other rules they have. The Scrip-
tures themselves were made law to us here, by the
authority of the commonwealth, and are therefore
part of the law civil. If they were laws in their
own nature, then were they laws over all the world,
and men were obliged to obey them in America, as

VOL. IV. B B

370 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

soon as they should be shown there, though without
a miracle, by a friar. What is unjust, but the trans-
gression of a law ? Law therefore was before un-
just : and the law was made known by sovereign
power before it was a law: therefore sovereign
power was antecedent both to law and injustice.
Who then made unjust but sovereign kings or
sovereign assemblies ? Where is now the won-
der of this rapper, that lawful kings make those
things which they command just^ hy command-
ing them^ and those things which they forbid
unjust^ hy forbidding them ? Just and unjust
were surely made. If the king made them not,
who made them else ? For certainly the breach of
a civil law is a sin against God. Another calumny
which he would fix upon me, is, that I make the
King's verbal commands to be laws. How so?
Because I say, the civil laws are nothing else but
the commands of him that hath the sovereign .
power ^ concerning the future actions of his sub-
jects. What verbal command of a king can arrive
at the ears of all his subjects, which it must do ere
it be a law, without the seal of the person of the
commonwealth, which is here the Great Seal of
England ? Who, but his Lordship, ever denied that
the command of England was a law to English-
men ? Or that any but the King had authority
to affix the Great Seal of England to any writing ?
And who did ever doubt to call our laws, though
made in Parliament, the King's laws ? What was
ever called a law, which the King did not assent
to ? Because the King has granted in divers cases
not to make a law without the advice and assent
of the lords and commons, therefore when there

^

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 371

is no parliament in being, shall the Great Seal
of England stand for nothing ? What was more
unjustly maintained during the Long Parliament,
besides the resisting and murdering of the King,
than this doctrine of his Lordship's ? But the
Bishop endeavoured here to make the multitude
believe I maintain, that the King sinneth not, though
he bid hang a man for making his apparel otherwise
than he appointed, or his servant for negligent at-
tendance. And yet he knew I distinguished always
between the King's natural and politic capacity.
What name should I give to this wilful slander ?
But here his Lordship enters into passion, and ex-
claims: Where are wcy in Europe or in Asia?
Gross J palpable, pernicious flattery, poisoning of
a commonwealth, poisoning the King^s mind. But
where was his Lordship when he wrote this ? One
would not think he was in France, nor that this
doctrine was written in the year 1658, but rather
in the year 1648, in some cabal of the King's ene-
mies. But what did put him into this fit of choler ?
Partly, this very thing, that he could not answer
my reasons ; but chiefly, that he had lost upon me so
much School-learning in our controversy touching
Liberty and Necessity: wherein he was to blame
himself, for believing that the obscure and barba-
rous language of School-divinity, could satisfy an
ingenuous reader, as well as plain and perspicuous
English. Do I flatter the King ? Why am I not
rich ? I confess his Lordship has not flattered
him here.

/. D. Something there is which he hath a con-
fused glimmering of, as the blind man sees men
walking like trees, which he is not able to appre-

B B 2

372 AN AN8WBR TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

hend and express clearly. We acknowledge, that
though the laws or commands of a sovereign prince
be erroneons, or nnjost, or injurious, such as a
subject cannot approve for good in themselves ;
yet he is bound to acquiesce, and may not oppose
or resist, otherwise than by prayers and tears, and
at the most by flight. We acknowledge that the
civil laws have power to bind the conscience of a
Christian, in themselves, but not from themselves,
but from him who hath said, Let every soul he
subject to the higher powers. Either they bind
Christian subjects to do their sovereign's com-
mands, or to suflfer for the testimony of a good
conscience. We acknowledge that in doubtful
cases, semper prcesumitur pro rege et lege, the
sovereign and the law are always presumed to be
in the right. But in plain evident cases, which
admit no doubt, it is always better to obey God
than man. Blunderers, whilst they think to mend
one imaginary hole, make two or three real ones.
They who derive the authority of the Scriptures or
God's law from the civil laws of men, are like those
who seek to imderprop the heavens from falling,
with a bulrush. Nay, they derive not only the
authority of the Scripture, but even the law of
nature itself, from the civil law. The laws of
nature (which need no promulgation) in the con-
dition of nature are not properly laws^ hut quali-
ties which dispose men to peace and obedience.
When a commonwealth is once settled^ then are
they actually laws^ and not before. God help us,
into what times are we fallen, when the immutable
laws of God and nature are made to depend upon
the mutable laws of mortal men, just as one should

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 3/3

go about to control the sun by the authority of the
clock.

T. H. Hitherto he never oflFered to mend any of
the doctrines he inveighs against; but here he
does. He says I have a glimmering of something
I was not able to apprehend and express clearly.
Let us see his Lordship's more clear expression.
We acknowledge^ saith he, that though the laws
or commands of a sovereign prince he erroneous^
or unjust J or injurious^ such as a subject cannot
approve for good in themselves^ yet he is hound
to acquiesce^ and may not oppose or resist other-
wise than hy prayers and tears ^ and at the most
hy flight. Hence it follows clearly, that when a
sovereign has made a law, though erroneous, then,
if his subject oppose it, it is a sin. Therefore I
would fain know, when a man has broken that law
by doing what it forbad, or by refusing to do what
it commanded, whether he have opposed this law
or not. If to break the law be to oppose it, he
granteth it. Therefore his Lordship has not here
expressed himself so clearly, as to make men un-
derstand the diflference between breaking a law
and opposing it. Though there be some diflFerence
between breaking of a law, and opposing those
that are sent with force to see it executed; yet
between breaking and opposing the law itself, there
is no diflFerence. Also, though the subject think
the law just, as when a thief is by law condemned
to die, yet he may lawfully oppose the execution,
not only by prayers, tears, and flight, but also (as
I think) any way he can. For though his fault
were never so great, yet his endeavour to save his
own life is n6t a fault. For the law expects it.

374 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

and for that cause appointeth felons to be carried
bound and encompassed with armed men to exe-
cution. Nothing is opposite to law^ but sin : no-
thing opposite to the sheriflF, but force. So that
his Lordship's sight was not sharp enough to see
the difference between the law and the officer.
Again^ We acknowledge, says he^ that the laws
have power to hind the conscience of a Christian
in themselves, hut not from themselves. Neither
do the Scriptures bind the conscience because they
are Scriptures, but because they were from God.
So also the book of English Statutes bindeth our
consciences in itself, but not from itself, but from
the authority of the king, who only in the right of
God has the legislative powers. Again he saith,
We acknowledge that in douhtful cases, the sove-
reign and the law are always presumed to he in
the right. If he presume they are in the right,
how dare he presume that the cases they deter-
mine are doubtful ? But, saith he, in evident cases
which admit no doubt, it is always better to obey
God than man. Yes, and in doubtful cases also,
say I. But not always better to obey the inferior
pastors than the supreme pastor, which is the king.
But what are those cases that admit no doubt ? I
know but very few, and those are such as his Lord-
ship was not much acquainted with.

/. D. But it is not worthy of my labour, nor
any part of my intention, to pursue every shadow
of a question which he springeth. It shall suffice
to gather a posy of flowers (or rather a bundle of
weeds) out of his writings, and present them to
the reader, who will easily distinguish them from
healthful plants by the rankness of their smell.
Such are these which follow.

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 375

T. H. As for the following posy of flowers,
there wants no more to make them sweet, than to
wipe oflF the venom blown upon some of them by
his Lordship's breath.

J. D. 1. To he delighted in the imagination
only of being possessed of another marCs goods,
servants, or wife, without any intention to take
them from him by force or fraud, is no breach
of the law which saith : Thou shall not covet.

T. H. What man was there ever, whose imagi-
nation of anything he thought would please him,
was not some delight ? Or what sin is there, where
there is not so much as an intention to do injus-
tice? But his Lordship would not distinguish
between delight and purpose, nor between a wish
and a will. This was venom. I believe that his
Lordship himself, even before he was married, took
some delight in the thought of it, and yet the
woman then was not his own. All love is delight,
but all love is not sin. Without this love of that
which is not yet a man's own, the world had not
been peopled.

J. D. 2. If a man by the terror of present
death be compelled to do a fact against the law,
he is totally excused, because no law can oblige
a man to abandon his own preservation; nature
compelleth him to the fact. The like doctrine he
hath elsewhere. When the actor doth anything
against the law of nature by the command of the
author, if he be obliged by former covenants to
obey him, not he, but the author bredketh the law
of nature.

T. H. The second flower is both sweet and
wholesome.

376 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

/. Z>. 3. It is a doctrine repugnant to civil
society y that whatsoever a man does against his
conscience y is sin.

T. H. It is plain^ that to do what a man thinks
in his own conscience to be sin, is sin ; for it is a
contempt of the law itself ; and from thence igno-
rant men, out of an erroneous conscience, disobey
the law, which is pernicious to all government.

t/. Z>. 4. TTie kingdom of God is not shut hut
to them that sin, that is, to them who have not
performed due obedience to the laws of God; nor
to them, if they believe the necessary articles of
the Christian faith.

5. We mu^t know that the true acknowledging
of sin is repentance itself.

6. An opinion publicly appointed to be taught
cannot be heresy ; nor the sovereign princes that
authorized the same, heretics.

T. H. The fourth, fifth, and sixth smell well.
But to say, that the sovereign prince in England
is a heretic, or that an act of parliament is hereti-
cal, stinks abominably ; as it was thought primo
ElizabethiB.

J. D. 7' Temporal and spiritual government
are but two words to make men see double, and
mistake their lawful sovereign, 8fc. There is no
other government in this life, neither of state nor
religion, but temporal,

8. It is manifest, that they, who permit a con-
trary doctrine to that which themselves believe
and think necessary (to salvation), do against their
consciences, and will, as inuch as in them lieth,
the eternal destruction of their subjects.

T. II. The seventh and eighth are roses and

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 377

jessamine. But his leaving out the words (to sal-
vation) was venom.

J. D. 9. Subjects sin if they do not worship
God according to the laws of the commonwealth.

T. H. The ninth he hath poisoned, and made it
not mine. He quotes my book De Cive, cap. xv. 19,
where I say, regnante Deo per solam rationem
naturalem, that is, before the Scripture was
given, they sinned that refused to worship God,
according to the rites and ceremonies of the
country ; which hath no ill scent, but to undutifol
subjects.

/. D. 10. To believe in Jesus (in Jesum), is the
same as to believe that Jesus is Christ.

T. H. And so it is always in the Scripture.

J. D. 11. There can be no contradiction be-
tween the laws of God, and the laws of a Chris-
tian commonwealth. Yet, we see Christian com-
monwealths daily contradict one another.

T. H. The eleventh is also good. But his Lord-
ship's instance, that Christian commonwealths
contradict one another, has nothing to do here.
Their laws do indeed contradict one another, but
contradict not the law of God. For God commands
their subjects to obey them in all things, and his
Lordship himself confesseth that their laws, though
erroneous, bind the conscience. But Christian
commonwealths would seldom contradict one an-
other, if they made no doctrine law, but such as
were necessary to salvation.

/. Z). 12. No man giveth but with intention of
some good to himself. Of all voluntary acts, the
object is to every man his own good. Moses,
St. Paul, and the Decii were not of his mind.

378 AN ANSWBR TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

T. H. That which his Lordship adds to the
twelfth, namely, that Moses, St. Paul, and the
Decii were not of my mind, is false. For the two
former did what they did for a good to themselves,
which was eternal life ; and the Decii for a good
fame after death. And his Lordship also, if he
had believed there is an eternal happiness to come,
or thought a good fame after death to be anything
worth, would have directed all his actions towards
them, and have despised the wealth and titles of
the present world.

«/./). 13. There is no natural knowledge of
marCs estate (ifter deaths much less of reward
which is then to he given to breach of faithy hut
only a belief grounded upon other mens saying,
that they know it super natur ally , or that they
know those that knew them that knew others that
knew it super naturally.

T. H. The thirteenth is good and fresh.
J. D. 14. David'' s killing of Uriah was no
injury to Uriah ; because the right to do what he
pleased, was given him by Uriah himself.

T. H. David himself makes this good, in saying,
to thee only have I sinned.

J. D. 15. To whom it belongeth to determine
controversies which may arise from the divers in-
terpretations of Scripture, he hath an imperial
power over all men, which acknowledge tlie Scrip-
ture to be the word of God.

16. What is theft, what is murder, what is
adidtery, and universally what is an injury, is
known by the civil law, that is, by the commands
of the sovereign.

T. H. For the fifteenth/ he should have disputed

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 3/9

it with the head of the church. ' And as to the
sixteenth, I would have asked him by what other
law his Lordship would have it determined what
is theft, or what is injury, than by the laws made
in parliament, or by the laws which distinguish
between meum and tuum ? His Lordship's igno-
rance smells rankly ('tis his own phrase in this and
many other places, which I have let pass) of his
own interest. The King tells us what is sin, in that
he tells us what is law. He hath authorized the
clergy to dehort the people from sin, and to exhort
them, by good motives both from Scriptiire and
reason, to obey the laws; and supposeth them
(though under forty years old), by the help they
have in the university, able, in case the law be not
written, to teach the people, old and young, what
they ought to follow in doubtful cases of conscience ;
that IS to say, they are authorized to expound the
laws of nature ; but not so as to make it a doubtful
case, whether the King's laws be to be obeyed or
not. All they ought to do, is from the King's au-
thority. And therefore this my doctrine is no weed.

J. D. 17. He admitteth incestuous copulations
of the heathens, according to their heathenish
lawsy to have been lawful marriages. Though
the Scripture teach us (Levit. xviii. 28) expressly,
that for those abominations the land of Canaan
spued out her inhabitants.

T. H. The seventeenth he hath corrupted with
a false interpretation of the text. For in that
chapter, from the beginning to verse twenty, are
forbidden marriages in certain degrees of kindred.
From verse twenty, which begins with Moreover,
to the twenty-eighth, are forbidden sacrificing of

380 AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

children to Moloch, and profaning of God's name^
and buggery with man and beast, with this cause
expressed, {For all these abominations have the
men of the land done which were before youy and
the land is defiled,) that the land spue not you out
also. As for marriages within the degrees prohi-
bited, they are not referred to the abominations of
the heathen. Besides, for some time after Adam,
such marriages were necessary.

J. D. 18. / say that no other article of faith
besides this, that JesVsS is Christ, is necessary to
a Christian man for salvation.

19. Because Chris fs kingdom is not of this
worldy therefore neither can his ministers, unless
they be kings, require obedience in his name.
They have no right of commanding, no power to
make laws.

T. H. These two smell comfortably, and of
Scripture. The contrary doctrine smells of ambi-
tion and encroachment of jurisdiction, or rump of
the Roman tyranny.

J. D. 20. I pass by his errors about oaths, about
vows, about the resurrection, about the kingdom
of Christ, about the power of the keys, binding,
loosing, excommunication, &c., his ignorant mis-
takes of meritum congrui and condigni, active and
passive obedience, and many more, for fear of
being tedious to the reader.

T. H. The terms of School divinity, of which
number are meritiim congrui, meritum condigni,
and passive obedience, are so obscure, as no man
living can tell what they mean ; so that they that
use them may admit or deny their meaning, as it
shall serve their turns. I said not that this was

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 381

their meaning, but that I thought it was so. For
no man living can tell what a Schoolman means
by his words. Therefore I expounded them accord-
ing to their true signification. Merit ex condigno,
is when a thing is deserved by pact ; as when I say
the labourer is worthy of his hire, I mean meritum
ex condigno. But when a man of his own grace
throweth money among the people, with an inten-
tion that what part soever of it any of them could
catch he should have, he that catcheth merits it,
not by pact, nor by precedent merit, as a labourer,
but because it was congruent to the purpose of
him that cast it amongst them. In all other mean^
ing these words are but jargon, which his Lord-
ship had learnt by rote. Also passive obedience
signifies nothing, except it may be called passive
obedienceyfhen a man refraineth himself from doing
what the law hath forbidden. For in his Lordship's
sense, the thief that is hanged for stealing, hath
fulfilled the law; which I think is absurd.

J. D. His whole works are a heap of mis-shapen
errors, and absurd paradoxes, vented with the con-
fidence of a juggler, the brags of a mountebank,
and the authority of some Pythagoras, or third
Cato, lately dropped down from heaven.

Thus we have seen how the Hobbian principles
do destroy the existence, the simplicity, the ubi-
quity, the eternity, and infiniteness of God, the
doctrine of the Blessed Trinity, the hjrpostatical
union, the kingly, sacerdotal, and prophetical ofl&ce
of Christ, the being and operation of the Holy
Ghost, heaven, hell, angels, devils, the immortality
of the soul, the Catholic and all national churches ;
the holy Scriptures, holy orders, the holy sacra-

382 AN ANSWSR TO BISHOP BRAM HAIX.

ments, the whole frame of religion, and the wor-
ship of God; the laws of nature, the reality of
goodness, justice, piety, honesty, conscience, and
all that is sacred. If his disciples have such an
implicit faith, that they can digest all these things,
they may feed with ostriches.

T.H. He here concludes his first chapter with bit-
ter reproaches, to leave in his reader, as he thought,
a sting; supposing perhaps that he will read nothing
but the beginning and end of his book, as is the
custom of many men. But to make him lose that
petty piece of cunning, I must desire of the reader
one of these two things. Either that he would
read with it the places of my Leviathan which he
cites^ and see not only how he answers my argu-
ments, but also what the arguments are which he
produceth against them ; or else, that he would
forbear to condemn me, so much as in his thought :
for otherwise he is unjust. The name of Bishop is
of great authority ; but these words are not the
words of a bishop, but of a passionate Schoolman,
too fierce and unseemly in any man whatsoever.
Besides, they are untrue. Who that knows me,
will say that I have the confidence of a juggler, or
that I use to brag of anything, much less that I
play the mountebank ? What my works are, he
was no fit judge. But now he has provoked me,
I will say thus much of them, that neither he, (if he
had lived), nor I, if I would, could extinguish the
light which is set up in the world by the greatest
part ' of them : and for these doctrines which he
impugneth, I have few opposers, but such whose
profit, or whose fame in learning is concerned in
them. He accuses me first of destroying the ex-

Ik

AN ANSWER TO BISHOP BRAMHALL. 383

istence of God ; that is to say, he would make the
world believe t were an atheist. But upon what
ground? Because I say, that God is a spirit, but cor-
poreal. But to say that, is allowed me by St. Paul,
that says (1 Cor. xv. 44) : There is a spiritual
body, and there is an animal body. He that holds
there is a God, and that God is really somewhat,
(for body is doubtlessly a real substance) , is as far
from being an atheist, as it is possible to be. But
he that says God is an incorporeal substance^ no
man can be sure whether he be an atheist or not.
For no man living can tell whether there be any
substance at all, that is not also corporeal. For
neither the word incorporeal^ nor immaterialy nor
any word equivalent to it, is to be found in Scrip-
ture, or in reason. But on the contrary, that the
Godhead dwelleth bodily in Christ, is found in
Colos. ii. 9 ; and Tertullian maintains that God is
either a corporeal substance or nothing. Nor was
he ever condemned for it by the church. For why ?
Not only Tertullian, but all the learned, call body^
not only that which one can see, but also what-
soever has magnitude, or that is somewhere ; for
they had greater reverence for the divine substance,
than that they durst think it had no magnitude^ or
was nowhere. But they that hold God to be a
phantasm, as did the exorcists in the Church of
Rome, that is, such a thing as were at that time
thought to be the sprights, that were said to walk
in churchyards and to be the souls of men buried,
do absolutely make God to be nothing at all.
But how ? Were they atheists ? No. For though
by ignorance of the consequence they said that
which was equivalent to atheism, yet in their hearts

384 AN ANSWBR TO BISHOP BRAMHALL.

they thought God a sabstance, and would also^ if
they had known what substance and what carpo-
real meant, have said he was a corporeal sabstance.
So that this atheism by consequence is a very easy
thing to be fallen into, even by the most godly
men of the church. He also ths^ says that God is
wholly here, and wholly there, and wholly every
where, destroys by consequence the unity of God,
and the infiniteness of God, and the simplicity of
God. And this the Schoolmen do, and are there-
fore atheists by consequence, and yet they do not
all say in their hearts that there is no God. So
also his Lordship by exempting the will of man
from being subject to the necessity of God*s will
or decree, denies by consequence the Divine pre-
science, which also will amount to atheism by con-
sequence. But out of this, that God is a spirit
corporeal and infinitely pure, there can no un-
worthy or dishonourable consequence be drawn.

Thus far to his Lordship's first chapter, in justifi-
cation of my Leviathan as to matter of religion ;
and especially to wipe oflF that unjust slander cast
upon me by the Bishop of Deny. As for the second
chapter, which concerns my civil doctrines, since my
errors there, if there be any, will not tend very much
to my disgrace, I will not take the pains to answer it.

Whereas his Lordship has talked in his discourse
here and there ignorantly of heresy, and some
others have not doubted to say publicly, that there
be many heresies in my Leviathan ; I will add here-
unto, for a general answer, an historical relation
concerning the word Heresy, from the first use of
it amongst the Grecians till this present time.

^

AN

HISTORICAL NARRATION

CONCERNING

HEKESY,

AND

THE PUNISHMENT THEREOF.

** Nam Teluti pueri trepidant, atqae omnia ciecis
In tenebris metuunt : sic nos in luce timemus
Interdum, nihilo qus sunt metuenda magis, quam
Qos pueri in tenebris payitant, finguntque futnra."

Lucretius, Lib. ii. 54-67.

VOL. IV. C C

HJERESEWS LARVAS, SECTARL'M IMMANIA MONSTRA
IIOBBIUS IKVICTO DISFULIT IXCiEXIO.

CONCERNING HERESY,

AND

THE PUNISHMENT THEREOF.

The word heresy is Greek, and signifies a taking
of any thing, and particularly the taking of an
opinion. After the study of philosophy began in
Greece, and the philosophers, disagreeing amongst
themselves, had started many questions, not only
about things natural, but also moral and civil;
because every man took what opinion he pleased,
each several opinion was called a heresy; which
signified no more than a private opinion, without
reference to truth or falsehood. The beginners of
these heresies were chiefly Pythagoras, Plato, Aris-
totle, Epicurus, Zeno ; men, who as they held
many errors, so also found they out many true and
useful doctrines, in all kinds of learning : and for
that cause were well esteemed of by the greatest
personages of their own times ; and so also were
some few of their followers.

But the rest, ignorant men, and very often needy
knaves, having learned by heart the opinions of
these admired philosophers, and pretending to take
after them, made use thereof to get their living by
the teaching of rich men's children that happened
to be in love with those great names : though by
their impertinent discourse, sordid and ridiculous

c c 2

388 HERESY.

manners^ they were generally despised, of what
sect or heresy soever ; whether they were Pytha-
goreans ; or Academics, followers of Plato ; or
Peripatetics, followers of Aristotle ; Epicureans ;
or Stoics, followers of Zeno. For these were the
names of heresies, or, as the Latins call them,
sects, a sequendoy so much talked of from after the
time of Alexander till this present day, and that
have perpetually troubled or deceived the people
with whom they lived, and were never more nu-
merous than in the time of the primitive church.

The heresy of Aristotle, by the revolutions of
time, has had the good fortune to be predominant
over the rest. However, originally the name of
heresy was no disgrace, nor the word heretic at
all in use : though the several sects, especially the
Epicureans and the Stoics, hated one another;
and the Stoics, being the fiercer men, used to
revile those that diflFered from them, with the most
despiteful words they could invent.

It cannot be doubted, but that, by the preaching
of the apostles and disciples of Christ, in Greece
and other parts of the Roman empire full of these
philosophers, many thousands of men were con-
verted to the Christian faith, some really, and some
feignedly, for factious ends, or for need; for
Christians lived then in common, and were chari-
table. And because most of these philosophers had
better skill in disputing and oratory than the com-
mon people, and thereby were better qualified both
to defend and propagate the Gospel, there is no
doubt, I say, but most of the pastors of the primi-
tive church were for that reason chosen out of the

HSRESY. 389

number of these philosophers ; who retaining still
many doctrines which they had taken up on the
authority of their former masters, whom they had
in reverence, endeavoured many of them to draw
the Scriptures every one to his own heresy. And
thus at first entered heresy into the church of
Christ. Yet these men were all of them Christians ;
as they were, when they were first baptized. Nor
did they deny the authority of those writings which
were left them by the Apostles and Evangelists,
though they interpreted them, many times, with a
bias to their former philosophy. And this dissen-
tion amongst themselves, was a great scandal to
the unbelievers, and which not only obstructed the
way of the Gospel, but also drew scorn and greater
persecution upon the church.

For remedy whereof, the chief pastors of churches
did use, at the rising of any new opinion, to assem-
ble themselves for the examining and determining
of the same. Wherein, if the author of the opinion
were convinced of his error, and subscribed to the
sentence of the church assembled, then all was well
again : but if he still persisted in it, they laid him
aside, and considered him but as an heathen man ;
which to an unfeigned Christian, was a great
ignominy, and of force to make him consider bet-
ter of his own doctrine ; and sometimes brought
him to the acknowledgment of the truth. But
other punishment they could inflict none; that
being a right appropriated to the civil power. So
that all the punishment the church could inflict,
was only ignominy ; and that among the faithful,
consisting in this, that his company was by all the

390 H BREST.

godly avoided, and he himself branded with the
name of heretic^ in opposition to the whole ehureh,
that condemned his doctrine. So that catholic
and lieretic were terms relative ; and here it was
that heretic came to be a name, and a name of
disgrace, both together.

The first and most troublesome heresies of the
primitive church, were about the Trinity. For,
according to the usual curiosity of natural philo-
sophers, they could not abstain from disputing the
very first principles of Christianity, into which they
were baptized, in the name of the Father, the San,
and the Holy Ghost. Some there were that made
them allegorical. Others would make one creator
of good, and another of evil ; which was in effect
to set up two Gods, one contrary to another;
supposing that causation of evil could not be
attributed to God, without impiety. From which
doctrine they are not far distant, that now make
the first cause of sinful actions to be every man as
to his own sin. Others there were, that would have
God to be a body with parts organical, as face,
hands, fore-parts, and back-parts. Others, that
Christ had no real body, but was a mere phantasm :
for phantasms were taken then, and have been
ever since, by unlearned and superstitious men, for
things real and subsistent. Others denied the
divinity of Christ. Others, that Christ, being God
and man, was two persons. Others confessed he
was one person, and withal that he had but one
nature. And a great many other heresies arose
from the too much adherence to the philosophy of
those times : whereof some were suppressed for a

HERESY. 391

time by St. John's publishing his Gospel, and some
by their own unreasonableness vanished, and some
lasted till the time of Constantine the Great, and
after.

When Constantine the Great, made so by the
assistance and valour of the Christian soldiers, had
attained to be the only Roman Emperor, he also him-
self became a Christian, and caused the temples of
the heathen gods to be demolished, and authorised
Christian religion only to be public. But towards
the latter end of his time, there arose a dispute in
the city of Alexandria, between Alexander the
Bishop, and Arius, a presbyter of the same city ;
wherein Arius maintained, first, that Christ was
inferior to his Father ; and afterwards, that he was
no God, alleging the words of Christ, my Father
is greater than I : the bishop, on the contrary,
alleging the words of St. John, and the word was
God ; and the words of St. Thomas, my Lord and
my God. This controversy presently, amongst the
inhabitants and soldiers of Alexandria, became a
quarrel, and was the cause of much bloodshed in
and about the city ; and was likely then to spread
further, as afterwards it did. This so far concerned
the Emperor's civil government, that he thought it
necessary to call a general council of all the bishops
and other eminent divines throughout the Roman
Empire, to meet at the city of Nice. When they
were assembled, they presented the Emperor with
libels of accusation one against another. When he
had received these libels into his hands, he made
an oration to the fathers assembled, exhorting
them to agree, and to fall in hand with the

392 HERESY.

settlement of the articles of faith, for which cause
he had assembled them ; saying, whatsoever they
should decree therein, he would cause to be ob-
served. This may perhaps seem a greater indif-
ferency, than woidd in these days be approved of.
But so it is in the history ; and the articles of faith
necessary to salvation, were not thought then to be
so many as afterwards they were defined to be by
the Church of Rome.

When Constantine had ended his oration, he
caused the aforesaid libels to be cast into the fire,
as became a wise king and a charitable Christian.
This done, the fathers fell in hand with their busi-
ness, and following the method of a former creed,
now commonly called the Apostles' Creed, made a
confession of faith, viz. : I believe in one (Jod,
THE Father Almighty, maker of heaven and

EARTH, AND OF ALL THINGS VISIBLE AND INVI-
SIBLE : in which is condemned the polytheism of
the Gentiles : And in one Lord Jesus Christ,
THE ONLY BEGOTTEN SoN OF GoD : against the
many sons of the many Gods of the heathen : Be-
gotten OF HIS Father before all worlds,
God of God : against the Arians : Very God of
VERY God : against the Valentinians, and against
the heresy of Apelles and others, who made Christ
a mere phantasm : Light of Light : this was
put in for explication, and used before to that pur-
pose by TertuUian : Begotten, not made, being
OF one substance with the Father : in this
again they condemn the doctrine of Arius. For this
word, of one substance, in Latin consuhstantiaUs,
but in Greek o/tooutnoc, that is, of one essence, was

HERESY. 393

put as a touchstone to discern an Arian from a
Catholic ; and much ado there was about it. Con-
stantine himself, at the passing of this creed, took
notice of it for a hard word ; but yet approved of
it, saying, that in a divine mystery it was fit to
use divina et arcana verba ; that is, divine words,
and hidden from human understanding : calling
that word o^ooWioc, divine, not because it was in
the divine Scripture, (for it is not there) but because
it was to him arcanum^ that is, not sufficiently un-
derstood. And in this again appeared the indif-
ferency of the Emperor ^ and that he had for his
end, in the calling of the Synod, not so much the
truth, as the uniformity of the doctrine, and peace
of his people that depended on it. The cause of
the obscurity of this word ofioov<nog, proceeded
chiefly from the difiference between the Greek and
Roman dialect, in the philosophy of the Peripatetics.
The first principle of religion in all nations, is, that
God is, that is to say, that God really is something,
and not a mere fancy ; but that which is really
something, is considerable alone by itself, as being
somewhere. In which sense a man is a thing real ;
for I can consider him to J^, without considering any
other thing to he besides him. And for the same
reason, the earth, the air, the stars, heaven, and their
parts, are all of them things real. And because
whatsoever is real here, or there, or in any place, has
dimensions, that is to say, magnitude ; that which
hath magnitude, whether it be visible or invisible,
finite or infinite, is called by all the learned a body.
It foUoweth, that all real things, in that they are
^somewhere, are corporeal. On the contrary, essence.

394 HERESY.

deity, humanity, and such like names,«gnify nothing
that can be considered, without first consideriDg
there is an enSy a god, a man, &c. So also if there
be any real thing that is white or blacky hot or cold,
the same may be considered by itself; but white-
ness, blackness, heat, coldness, cannot be considered^
unless it be first supposed that there is some real
thing to which they are attributed. These real
things are called by the Latin philosophers, entia,
suhjecta, substantive; and by the Greek philoso-
phers, ra ovra viroKHfuvay viro<rra/i£va. The Other,

which are incorporeal, are called by the Greek phi-
losophers, ovtrla (n;/ij3ej3i7)^ora, ^ftavTatrfmra ; but most

of the Latin philosophers used to convert oiala into
substantitty and so confound real and corporeal
things with incorporeal : which is not well ; for
essence and substance signify divers things. And
this mistake is received, and continues still in these
parts, in all disputes, both of philosophy and divi-
nity ; for in truth essentia signifies no more, than
if we should talk ridiculously of the isness of the
thing that is. By whom all things were made.
This is proved out of St. John i. I, 2, 3, and
Heb. i. 3, and that again out of Gen. i. where God
is said to create every thing by his sole word, as
when he said : Let there be light y and there was
light. And then, that Christ was that Word, and
in the beginning with God, may be gathered out of
divers places of Moses, David, and other of the
prophets. Nor was it ever questioned amongst
Christians, except by the Arians, but that Christ
was God eternal, and his incarnation eternally de-
creed. But the Fathers, all that write expositions

HERESY. 395

on this creed, could not forbear to philosophize
upon it, and most of them out of the principles of
Aristotle ; which are the same the Schoolmen now
use; as may partly appear by this, that many of them,
amongst their treatises of religion, have affected to
publish principles of logic and physics according to
the sense of Aristotle; as Athanasius, and Damas-
cene. And so some later divines of note, still con-
found the concrete with the abstract, deMSvntli deltas y
ens with essentia, sapiens with sapientia, ^eternus
with (Bternitas. If it be for exact and rigid truth
sake, why do they not say also, that holiness is a
holy man, covetousness a covetous man, hypocrisy
an hypocrite, and drunkenness a drunkard, and
the like, but that it is an error ? The Fathers agree
that the Wisdom of God is the eternal Son of God,
by whom all things were made, and that he was
incarnate by the Holy Ghost, if they meant it in
the abstract : for if deitas abstracted be deus, we
make two Gods of one. This was well imderstood by
John Damascene, in his treatise De Fide Orthodoxa,
which is an exposition of the Nicene creed ; where
he denies absolutely that deitas is deuSy lest see-
ing God was made man, it should follow, the Deity
was made man ; which is contrary to the doctrine
of all the Nicene Fathers. The attributes therefore
of God in the abstract, when they are put for God,
are put metonymically ; which is a common thing
in Scripture ; for example, Prov. viii. 25, where it
is said : before the mountains were settled, hejore
the hills, was I brought forth ; the wisdom there
spoken of, being the wisdom of God, signifies the
same with the wise God. This kind of speaking is

396 HERESY.

also ordinary in all languages. This considered, sach
abstracted words ought not to be used in aiguing,and
especially in the deducing the articles of our fidth ;
though in the language of Gk)d*s eternal worship, and
in all godly discourses, they cannot be avoided; and
the creed itself is less difficult to be assented to in
its own words, than in all such expositions of the
Fathers. Who for us men and our salvation

CAME DOWN from HEAVEX, AND WAS INCAR-
NATE BY THE Holy Ghost of the Virgin
Mary, and was made man. I have not read of
any exception to this ; for where Athanasius in his
creed says of the Son, He was not made, but be-
gotten, it is to be understood of the Son as he was
God eternal ; whereas here it is spoken of the Son
as he is man. And of the Son, also as he was
man, it may be said he was begotten of. the Holy
Ghost ; for a woman conceiveth not, but of him that
begetteth ; which is also confirmed, (Matth. i. xx) :
That which is begotten in her, (to ycwOcy), is of
the I'oly Ghost. And was also crucified for
us under Pontius Pilate : he suffered and
WAS buried: and the third day he rose

AGAIN according TO THE SCRIPTURES, AND AS-
CENDED INTO HEAVEN, AND SITTETH ON THE
RIGHT HAND OF THE FATHER : AND HE SHALL
COME AGAIN WITH GLORY TO JUDGE BOTH THE
QUICK AND THE DEAD. WhOSE KINGDOM SHALL

HAVE NO END. Of this part of the creed I have
not met with any doubt made by any Christian.
Hither the Council of Nice proceeded in their gene-
ral confession of faith, and no further.

This finished, some of the bishops present at the

HERESY. 397

Council (seventeen or eighteen, whereof Eusebins
Bishop of Caesarea was one) not sufl&ciently satisfied,
refused to subscribe till this doctrine of ofioovmog
should be better explained. Thereupon the Coun-
cil decreed, that whosoever shall say that God
hath parts, shall be anathematized ; to which the
said bishops subscribed. And Eusebius, by order
of the Council, wrote a letter, the copies whereof
were sent to every absent bishop, that being satis-
fied with the reason of their subscribing, they also
should subscribe. The reason they gave of their
subscription was this, that they had now a form
of words prescribed^ by whichy as a rule, they
might guide them^selves so, as not to violate the
peace of the church. By this it is manifest, that
no man was an heretic, but he that in plain and
direct words contradicted that form by the church
prescribed, and that no man could be made an
heretic by consequence. And because the said
form was not put into the body of the creed, but
directed only to the bishops, there was no reason
to punish any lay-person that should speak to the
contrary.

But what was the meaning of this doctrine,
that God has no parts ? Was it made heresy to
say, that God, who is a real substance, cannot be
considered or spoken of as here or there, or any
where, which are parts of places ? Or that there
is any real thing without length every way, that is
to say, which hath no magnitude at all, finite, nor
infinite ? Or is there any whole substance, whose
two halves or three thirds are not the same with
that whole ? Or did they mean to condemn the

398 HERESY.

ai^xonent of Tertullian, by which he cx)iifiited
Apelles and other heretics of his time, namely,
whatsoever was not corporeal^ was nothing but
phantasm, and not corporeal, for heretical ? No,
certainly, no divines say that. They went to esta-
blish the doctrine of one individual God in 7W-
nity ; to abolish the diversity of species in God,
not the distinction of here and there in substance.
When St. Paul asked the Corinthians, Is Christ
divided, he did not think they thought him im-
possible to be considered as having hands and
feet, but that they might think him, according to the
manner of the Gentiles, one of the sons of God, as
Arius did ; but not the only-begotten Son of God.
And thus also it is expounded in the Creed of
Athanasius, who was present in that council, by
these words, not confounding the persons, nor
dividing the substances ; that is to say, that God
is not divided into three persons, as man is divided
into Peter, James, and John; nor are the three
persons one and the same person. But Aristotle,
and from him all the Greek Fathers, and other
learned men, when they distinguish the general
latitude of a word, they call it division ; as when
they divide animal into man and beast, they call
these fcSiy, species ; and when they again divide
the species man into Peter and John, they call
these ftcp??, partes individuw. And by this con-
founding the division of the substance with the
distinction of words, divers men have been led into
the error of attributing to God a name, which is not
the name of any substance at all, viz. incorporeal.
By these words, God has no parts, thus explained,

HERESY. 399

together with the part of the creed which was at
that time agreed on^ many of those heresies which
were antecedent to that first general Council, were
condemned ; as that of Manes, who appeared
about thirty years before the reign of Constantine,
by the first article, / believe in one God ; though
in other words it seems to me to remain still in the
doctrine of the church of Rome, which so ascribeth
a liberty of the will to men, as that their will and
purpose to commit sin, should not proceed from
the cause of all things, God ; but originally from
themselves or from the Devil. It may seem perhaps
to some, that by the same words the Anthropomor-
phites also were then condemned : and certainly,
if by parts were meant not persons individual, but
pieces, they were condemned : for face, arms, feet,
and the like, are pieces. But this cannot be, for
the Anthropomorphites appeared not till the time
of Valens the Emperor, which was after the Coun-
cil of Nice between forty and fifty years ; and were
not condemned till the second general Council at
Constantinople.

Now for the punishment of heretics ordained by
Constantine, we read of none ; but that ecclesias-
tical officers, bishops and other preachers, if they
refused to subscribe to this faith, or taught the
contrary doctrine, were for the first fault deprived
of their offices, and for the second banished. And
thus did heresy, which at first was the name of
private opinion, and no crime, by virtue of a law
of the Emperor, made only for the peace of the
church, become a crime in a pastor, and punishable
with deprivation first, and next with banishment.

400 HERESY.

After this part of the creed was thus established,
there arose presently many new heresies, partly
about the interpretation of it, and partly about
the Holy Ghost, of which the Nicene Council had
not determined. Concerning the part established,
there arose disputes about the nature of Christ,
and the word hypostasis y id est, substance ; for of
persons there was yet no mention made, the creed
being written in Greek, in which language there is
no word that answereth to the Latin word persona.
And the union, as the Fathers called it, of the
human and Divine nature in Christ, hypostatical,
caused Eutyches, and after him Dioscorus, to affirm,
there was but one nature in Christ ; thinking that
whensoever two things are united, they are one :
and this was condemned as Arianism in the Coun-
cils of Constantinople and Ephesus. Others, be-
cause they thought two living and rational sub-
stances, such as are God and man, must needs be
also two hypostases, maintained that Christ had
two hypostases : but these were two heresies con-
demned together. Then concerning the Holy
Ghost, Nestorius Bishop of Constantinople, and
some others, denied the divinity thereof. And
whereas about seventy years before the Nicene
Council, there had been holden a provincial Coun-
cil at Carthage, wherein it was decreed, that those
Christians which in the persecutions had denied
the faith of Christ, should not be received again
into the church unless they were again baptized :
this also was condemned, though the President in
that Council was that most sincere and pious
Christian, Cyprian. And at last the creed was

HERESY. 401

made up entire as we have it, in the Chalcedonian
Council, by addition of these words : And I be-
lieve IN THE Holy Ghost, the lord and

GIVER OF life, WHO PROCEEDETH FROM THK

Father and the Son. Who with the Fa-
ther AND THE Son together is WORSHIPPED
AND glorified. WhO SPAKE BY THE PRO-
PHETS. And I BELIEVE ONE Catholic and
APOSTOLIC Church. I acknowledge one

BAPTISM for the REMISSION OF SINS. AnD I
LOOK FOR THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD,
AND THE LIFE OF THE WORLD TO COME. In

this addition are condemned, first the Nestorians
and others, in these words : who with the
Father and the Son together is worship-
ped AND GLORIFIED : and secondly, the doc-
trine of the Council of Carthage, in these words :

I BELIEVE ONE BAPTISM FOR THE REMISSION

OF SINS. For one baptism is not there put as
opposite to several sorts or manners of baptism,
but to the iteration of it. St. Cyprian was a better
Christian than to allow any baptism that was not
in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
In the general confession of faith contained in the
creed called the Nicene Creed, there is no mention
of hypostasis^ nor of hypostatical union, nor of
corporeal, nor of incorporeal, nor of parts; the
understanding of which words being not required
of the vulgar, but only of the pastors, whose dis-
agreement else might trouble the church ; nor were
such points necessary to salvation, but set abroach
for ostentation of learning, or else to dazzle men,
with design to lead them towards some ends of

VOL. IV. D D

402 HERESY.

their own. The changes of prevalence in the
empire between the Catholics and the Arians, and
how the great Athanasius, the most fierce of the
Catholics^ was banished by Constantine, and after-
wards restored, and again banished, I let pass ;
only it is to be remembered, that Athanasins is
supposed to have made his creed then, when
(banished) he was in Rome, Liberius being pope ;
by whom, as is most likely, the word hypostasis,
as it was in Athanasius's Creed, was disliked. For
the Roman church could never be brought to
receive it, but instead thereof used their own word
persona. But the first and last words of that
creed the church of Rome refused not : for they
make every article, not only those of the body of
the creed, but all the definitions of the Nicene
Fathers to be such, as a man cannot be saved,
unless he believe them all stedfastly ; though made
only for peace sake, and to unite the minds of the
clergy, whose disputes were like to trouble the
peace of the empire. After these four first general
Councils, the power of the Roman church grew up
apace ; and, either by the negligence or weakness
of the succeeding Emperors, the Pope did what he
pleased in religion. There was no doctrine which
tended to the power ecclesiastical^ or to the reve-
rence of the clergy, the contradiction whereof
was not hy one Council or another made heresy,
and punished arbitrarily hy the Emperors with
banishment or death. And at last kings them-
selves, and commonwealths, imless they purged
their dominions of heretics, were excommunicated,
interdicted, and their subjects let loose upon them

^

HERESY. 403

by the Pope ; insomucli as to an ingenuous and
serious Christian^ there was nothing so dangerous
as to enquire concerning his own salvation, of the
Holy Scripture; the careless cold Christian was
safe, and the skilful hypocrite a saint. But this is
a story so well known, as I need not insist upon it
any longer, but proceed to the heretics here in
England, and what punishments were ordained for
them by acts of parliament. All this while the
penal laws against heretics were such, as the several
princes and states, in their own dominions, thought
fit to enact. The edicts of the emperors made
their punishments capital, but for the manner of
the execution, left it to the prefects of provinces :
and when other kings and states intended, accord-
ing to the laws of the Roman church, to extirpate
heretics, they ordained such punishment as they
pleased. The first law that was here made for the
punishment of heretics, called Lollards and men-
tioned in the Statutes, was in the fifth year of the
reign of Richard the Second, occasioned by the
doctrine of John Wickliff and his followers ; which
WickliflF, because no law was yet ordained for his
punishment in parli^men.. by'the fevour of John
of Gaunt, the King's son, during the reign of Ed-
ward the Third, had escaped. But in the fifth
year of the next king, which was Richard the
Second, there passed an act of parliament to this
effect : that sherifTs and some others should have
commissions to apprehend such as were certified
by the prelates to.be preachers of heresy, their
fautors, maintainers, and abettors, and to hold
them in strong prison, till they should justify

D D 2

,404 HBRBST.

themselves, according to the law of holy cliiirdi.
So that hitherto there was no law in England, by
which a heretic could be put to death, or other-
ways pnnished, than by imprisoning him till he
was reconciled to the church. After this, in the
next king's reign, which was Henry the Fourth,
son of John of Gaunt, by whom Wicldiff had
been favoured, and who in his aspiring to the
crown had needed the good will of the bishops,
was made a law, in the second year of his reign,
wherein it was enacted, that every ordinary may
convene before him, and imprison any person sus-
pected of heresy ; and that an obstinate heretic
shall be burnt before the people.

In the next king's reign, which was Henry the
Fifth, in his second year, was made an act of par-
liament, wherein it is declared, that the intent of
heretics, called Lollards, was to subvert the Chris-
tian faith, the law of God, the church, and the
realm : and that an heretic convict should forfeit
all his fee-simple lands, goods, and chattels, be-
sides the punishment of burning. Again, in the
five-and-twentieth year of King Henry the Eighth,
it was enacted, that an heretic convict shall abjure
his heresies, and refusing so to do, or relapsing,
shall be burnt in open place, for example of others.
This act was made after the putting down of the
Pope's authority : and by this it appears, that King
Henry the Eighth intended no farther alteration
in religion, than the recovering of his own right
ecclesiastical. But in the first year of his son,
King Edward the Sixth, was made an act, by which
were repealed not only this act, but also all former

HERESY. 405

acts concerning doctrines, or matters of religion ;
so that at this time there was no law at all for the
punishment of heretics.

Again, in the Parliament of the first and second
year of Queen Mary, this act of 1 Edward VI was
not repealed, but made useless, by reviving the
statute of 25 Henry VIII, and freely putting it in
execution ; insomuch as it was debated, whether or
no they should proceed upon that statute against
the Lady Elizabeth, the Queen's sister.

The Lady Elizabeth, not long after, by the death
of Queen Mary, coming to the crown, in the fifth
year of her reign, by act of Parliament repealed in
the first place all the laws ecclesiastical of Queen
Mary, with all other former laws concerning the
punishments of heretics : nor did she enact any
other punishments in their place. In the second
place it was enacted, that the Queen by her letters
patents should give a commission to the bishops,
with certain other persons, in her Majesty's name,
to execute the power ecclesiastical ; in which com-
mission, the commissioners were forbidden to ad-
judge anything to be heresy, which was not declared
to be heresy by some of the first four general
Councils: but there was no mention made of
general Councils, but only in that branch of the
act which authorised that commission, commonly
called the High Commission ; nor was there in
that commission anything concerning how heretics
were to be punished ; but it was granted to them,
that they might declare or not declare, as they
pleased, to be heresy or not heresy, any of those
doctrines which had been condemned for heresy in

406 HERESY.

the first four general Cotineils. So that during the
time that the said High Commission was in being,
there was no statute by which a heretic could be
punished otherways, than by the ordinary censures
of the church ; nor doctrine accounted heresy,
unless the commissioners had actually declared and
published, that all that which was made heresy by
those four Councils, should be heresy also now :
but I never heard that any such declaration was
made either by proclamation, or by recording it in
churches, or by public printing; as in penal laws is
necessary; the breaches of it are excused by
ignorance. Besides, if heresy had been made capi-
tal, or otherwise civilly punishable, either the four
general Councils themselves, or at least the points
condemned in them, ought to have been printed or
put into parish churches in English, because with-
out it, no man could know how to beware of
offending against them.

Some men may perhaps ask, whether nobody
were condemned and bunit for heresy, during the
time of the High Commission.

I have heard there were : but they which ap-
prove such executions, may peradventure know
better grounds for them than I do; but those
grounds are very well worthy to be enquired ajfter.

Lastly, in the seventeenth year of the reign of
King Charles the First, shortly after that the Scots
had rebelliously put down the episcopal govern-
ment in Scotland, the Presbyterians in England
endeavoured the same here. The king, though he
saw the rebels ready to take the field, would not
condescend to that ; but yet in hope to appease

HEBESY. 407

them, was content to pass an act of parliament for
the abolishing the High Commission. Bnt though
the High Commission was taken away, yet the
parliament having other ends besides the setting
up of the Presbyterate, pursued the rebellion, and
put down both episcopacy and monarchy, erecting
a power by them called The Commonwealthy by
others The Rump, which men obeyed not out of
duty, but for fear ; nor were there any human laws
left in force to restrain any man from preaching or
writing any doctrine concerning religion that he
pleased. And in this heat of the war, it was impos-
sible to disturb the peace of the state, which then
was none.

And in this time it was, that a book called Levi-
athan was written in defence of the King's power,
temporal and spiritual, without any word against
episcopacy, or against any bishop, or against the
public doctrine of the church. It pleased God,
about twelve years after the usurpation of this
Rump, to restore his most gracious Majesty that
now is, to his father's throne, and presently, his
Majesty restored the bishops, and pardoned the
Presbyterians. But then both the one and the other
accused in Parliament this book of heresy, when
neither the bishops before the war had declared
what was heresy ; when if they had, it had been
made void by the putting down of the High Com-
mission at the importunity of the Presbyterians.
So fierce are men, for the most part, in dispute,
where either their learning or power is debated,
that they never think of the laws, but as soon as
they are offended, they cry out, cruc^fige ; forget-

406

ting what St. Pknl (2 Tim. n. 34, 35) fsdA^ ewea
in case of obstinate hol£ng of an error : fie ser-
rami of the Lord wmst mot stme^ hmt he gemile
mUo all am, apt to teaehj pmtiemt^ m a t eek mas
hutructing those that oppose thewuekes ; if God
peradtemtmre will give them repeatamety to the
acknowledging of the truth: of idudi ooonsd,
such fierceness as hatfa ajqieared in the disputation
of divines, down finnn befiMre the CooncQ oi Nice
to this present time, is a violation.

FINIS.

CONSIDERATIONS

UPON THE

REPUTATION, LOYALTY, MANNERS,

AND RELIGION,

OF

THOMAS HOBBES,

OF MALMESBURY,
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF,

BY WAY OP

LETTER TO A LEARNED PERSON

(JOHN WALLIS, D.D.)

THE

BOOKSELLER'S ADVERTISEMENT,

TO THE READERS.

I DO here present you with a piece of Mr. Hobbes's
writing ; which is not published from an imperfect
MS. as his Dialogue of the Civil Wars of England
was, by some that had got accidentally a copy of
it, absolutely against his consent, as you may see
by some passages out of some of his letters to me,
which I have here inserted.

In his letter of June, 1 679^ he saith :
" I would fain have published my Dialogue of the
Civil Wars of England^ long ago ; and to that end
I presented it to his Majesty : and some days after,
when I thought he had read it, I humbly besought
him to let me print it ; but his Majesty, though he
heard me graciously, yet he flatly refused to have it
published. Therefore I brought away the book, and
gave you leave to take a copy of it ; which when
you had done, J gave the original to an honourable
and learned friend, who about a year after died.
The King knows better, and is more concerned in
publishing of books than I am : therefore I dare
not venture to appear in the business, lest it should
oflFend him. Therefore I pray you not to meddle
in the business. Rather than to be thought any
way to farther or countenance the printing, I

412 bookseller's advertisement.

would be content to lose twenty times the value of
what you can expect to get, &c. I pray do not
take it ill ; it may be I may live to send you some-
what else as vendible as that : and without offence,
I rest Your very humble servant,

ChaUworth, June 19, 1679. ThOMAS HoBBES.*'

(Part of his letter m July, 1679-)

" If I leave any MSS. worth printing, I will leave
word you shall have them, if you please. I am

Your humble servant,

Chatiworth, July 21, 1679. ThOMAS HoBBES.''

(Part of his letter, August, 1679.)

" Sir, — I thank you for taking my advice in not
stirring about the printing of my book concerning
the civil wars of England, &c. I am writing some-
what for you to print in English, &c. I am, Sir,

Your humble servant,

Chatswarth, Aug. 18, 1679. ThOMAS HoBBES.''

That no spurious brats, for the time to come, be
fathered upon the deceased author, I have printed,
verbatim^ these passages out of his letters written
to me at several times ; their original I have by me.
I will be so just to his memory, that I will not
print anything but what is perfect, and fitted for
the press. And if any book shall be printed with
his name to it, that hath not before been printed,
you may be confident it is not his, imless printed for

William Crookb.

CONSIDERATIONS

UPON THE REPUTATION, &c

OP

THOMAS HOBBES.

Sir,
1 AM one of them that admire your writings ; and
having read over your Hohhius Heauton-timoru-
menosy I cannot hold from giving you some account
of the causes why I admire it. And first I con-
sidered how you handle him for his disloyalty, in
these words (page 5): His great heyiathsji, wherein
he placed his main strength, is now somewhat out
of season ; which, upon deserting his royal mas^
ter in distress^ (for he pretends to have been the
Kifig's tutor, though yet, from those who have
most reason to know it, 1 can find hut little ground
for such a pretence), was written in defence of
Oliver* s title, or whoever, by whatsoever means,
can get to he upmost; placing the whole right of
government merely in strength, and absolving all
his Majesty s subjects from their allegiance,
whenever he is not in a present capacity to force
obedience.

That which I observe and admire here, first, is,
that you left not this passage out, for two reasons ;
one, because Mr. Hobbes could long for nothing
more than such an occasion to tell the world his
own and your little stories, during the time of the
late rebellion.

414 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

When the Parliament sat, that b^an in April
1640, and was dissolved in May following, and in
which many points of the r^al power, which were
necessary for the peace of the kingdom, and the
safety of his Majesty's person, were dispnted and
denied, Mr. Hobbes wrote a little treatise in English,
wherein he did set forth and demonstrate, that the
said power and rights were inseparably annexed to
the sovereignty ; which sovereignty they did not
then deny to be in the King ; but it seems under-
stood not, or would not understand that inseparar
bility. Of this treatise, though not printed, many
gentlemen had copies, which occasioned much
talk of the author ; and had not his Majesty dis-
solved the Parliament, it had brought him into
danger of his life.

He was the first that had ventured to write in
the King's defence; and one, amongst very few,
that upon no other ground but knowledge of his
duty and principles of equity, without special in-
terest, was in all points perfectly loyal.

The third of November following, there began a
new Parliament, consisting for the greatest part of
such men as the people had elected only for their
averseness to the King's interest. These proceeded
so fiercely in the very beginning, against those that
had written or preached in the defence of any part
of that power, which they also intended to take
away, and in gracing those whom the King had
disgraced for sedition, that Mr. Hobbes, doubting
how they would use him, went over into France,
the first of all that fled, and there continued eleven
years, to his damage some thousands of pounds
deep. This, Doctor, was your time of harvest : you

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 4 15

were in their favour, and that, lis you have m^e
it since appear, for no goodness.

Being at Paris, he wrote and published his book
De Give, in Latin, to the end that all nations which
should hear what you and your Con-Covenanterd
were doing in England, might detest you, which I
believe they do ; for I know no book more magnified
than this is beyond the seas.

When his Majesty, that now is, came to Paris,
Mr. Hobbes had the honour to initiate him in the
mathematics; but never was so impudent or ig-
norant as to call, or to think himself the King's
tutor, as you, that understand not what that word,
out of the University, signifies, do falsely charge
him with ; or ever to say, that he was one of his
Majesty's domestic servants. While upon this
occasion he staid about Paris, and had neither en-
couragement nor desire to return into England, he
wrote and published his LeviathaUy far from the
intention either of disadvantage to his Majesty, or
to flatter Oliver, who was not made Protector till
three or four years after, on purpose to make way
for his return. For there is scarce a page in it that
does not upbraid both him, and you, and others
such as yon, with yonr abominable hypocrisy and
villainy.

Nor did he desert his Majesty, as you falsely
accuse him, as his Majesty himself knows. Nor
was his Majesty, as you unmannerly term it, in
distress. He had the title, right, and reverence of
a King, and maintained his faithful servants with
him. It is true that Mr. Hobbes came home, but
it was because he would not trust his safety with
the French clergy.

416 CONSIDBRATIONS UPON

Do you know that ever he sought any benefit
either from OUver, or from any of his party, or was
any way familiar with any of his ministers, before
or after his return ; or curried favour with any of
them, as you did by dedicating a book to his vice-
chancellor, Owen ?

Did you ever hear that he took anjrthing done to
him by his Majesty in evU part, or spake of him
otherwise than the best of his servants would do ;
or that he was sullen, silent, or sparing, in praising
his Majesty in any company, upon any occasion ?

He knew who were his enemies, and upon what
ground they misconstrued his writings.

But your indiscretion appears more manifestly in
pving him occasion to repeat what you have done,
and to consider you, as you professedly have con-
sidered him. For with what equity can it be denied
him to repeat your manifest and horrible crimes,
for all you have been pardoned ; when you publish
falsely pretended faults of his, and comprehended
in the same pardon ?

If he should say and publish, that you deciphered
the letters of the King and his party, and thereby
delivered his Majesty's secrets to the enemy, and
his best friends to the scaflFold, and boasted of it
in your book of arithmetic, written in Latin, to all
the world, as of a monument of your wit, worthy
to be preserved in the University Library : how will
you justify yourself, if you be reproached for hav-
ing been a rebel and a traitor ? It may be you, or
some for you, will now say, you deciphered those
letters to the King's advantage : but then you were
unfaithful to your masters of the Parliament : a
very honest pretence, and full of gallantry, to ex-

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 417

cuse treason with treachery^ and to be a double
spy. Besides, who will believe it ? Who enabled
you to do the King that favour ? Why herded you
with his enemies ? Who brought the King into
a need of such a fellow's favour, but they that first
deserted him, and then made war upon him, and
which were your friends and Mr. Hobbes his ene-
mies? Nay more, I know not one enemy Mr.
Hobbes then had, but such as were first the King's
enemies, and, because the King's, therefore his.
Your being of that party, without your deciphering,
amounts to no more than a desertion. Of the
bishops that then were, and for whose sakes, in
part, you raised the war, there was not one that
followed the King out of the land, though they
loved him, but lived quietly under the protection,
first of the Parliament, and then of Oliver, (whose
titles and actions were equally unjust) without
treachery. Is not this as bad as if they had gone
over, and (which was Mr. Hobbes his case) been
driven back again ? I hope you will not call them
all deserters, or, because by their stay here openly
they accepted of the Parliament's and of Oliver's
protection, defenders either of Oliver's or of the
Parliament's title to the sovereign power.

How many were there in that Parliament at first
that did indeed and voluntarily desert the King,
in consenting to many of their unjust actions ?
Many of these afterwards, either upon better judg-
ment, or because they pleased not the faction, (for
it was a hard matter for such as were not of Pym's
cabal to please the Parliament), or for some other
private ends deserted the Parliament, and did some
of them more hurt to the King than if they had

VOL. IV. E E

418 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

Stayed where they were ; for they had been so af-
frighted by such as you, with a panic fear of tyranny,
that seeking to help him by way of composition and
sharing, they abated the just and necessary indig-
nation of his armies, by which only his right was
to be recovered.

That very entering into the Covenant with the
Scottish nation against the King, is by itself a very
great crime, and you guilty of it. And so was
the imposing of the Engagement, and you guilty of
that also, as being done by the then Parliament,
whose democratical principles you approved of.

You were also assisting to the Assembly of Di-
vines that made the Directory ^ and which were
afterwards put down by Oliver for counterfeiting
themselves ambassadors. And this was when the
King was living, and at the head of an army, which
with your own endeavour might have protected
you. What crime it is, the King being head of
the Church of England, to make Directories, to
alter the Church-government^ and to set up new
forms of God's service, upon your own fancies,
without the King's authority, the lawyers could
have told you ; and what punishment you were to
expect from it, you might have seen in the statute
printed before the Book of Common Prayer.

Further he may say, and truly, that you were
guilty of all the treasons, murders, and spoil com-
mitted by Oliver, or by any upon Oliver's or the
Parliament's authority : for, during the late trouble,
who made both Oliver and the people mad, but the
preachers of your principles? But besides the
wickedness, see the folly of it. You thought to
make them mad, but just to such a degree as should

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 419

serve your own turn ; that is to say, mad, and yet
just as wise as yourselves. Were you not very im-
prudent to think to govern madness ? Paul they
knew, but who were you ? You were they, that put
the army into Oliver's hands, who before, as mad
as he was, was too weak, and too obscure to do any
great mischief ; with which army he executed upon
such as you, both here and in Scotland, that which
the justice of God required.

Therefore of all the crimes, the great one not
excepted, done in that rebellion, you were guilty ;
you, I say. Doctor, how little force or wit soever
you contributed, for your good-will to their cause.
The King was hunted as a partridge in the moim-
tains ; and though the hounds have been hanged,
yet the hunters were as guilty as they, and deserved
no less punishment. And the decipherers, and all
that blew the horn, are to be reckoned amongst the
hunters. Perhaps you would not have had the prey
killed, but rather have kept it tame. And yet who
can tell ? I have read of few kings deprived of their
power by their own subjects, that have lived any
long time after it, for reasons that every man is
able to conjecture.

All this is so manifest, as it needs no witnesses.
In the meantime Mr. Hobbes his behaviour was
such, that of them who appeared in that scene, he
was the only man I know, except a few that had
the same principles with him, that has not some-
thing more or less to blush for ; as having either
assisted that rebellious Parliament, without neces-
sity (when they might have had protection from
the King, if they had resorted to him for it in the
field), by covenanting, or by action, or with money

£ £

420 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

or plate, or by voting against his Majesty's interest,
in himself or his friends ; though some of them
have since by extraordinary service deserved to be
received into favour; but what is that to yon?
You are none of them ; and yet you dare to re-
proach the guiltless, as if after so ill firdts of your
sermons, it were not impudence enough to preach.

I admire further, that having been forgiven these
so transcendant crimes, so great a debt to the
gallows, you take Mr. Hobb^ by the throat for a
word in his Leviathan, made a fault by malicious
or over-hasty construction : for you have thereby,
like the unmerciful debtor in the Gospel, in my
opinion, forfeited your pardon, and so, without a
new one, may be hanged yet.

To that other charge, that he writ his Leviatham
in defence of Oliver s title, he will say, that you
in your own conscience know it is false. What
was Oliver, when that book came forth ? It was in
1650, and Mr. Hobbes returned before 1651.
Oliver was then but General under your masters of
the Parliament, nor had yet cheated them of their
usurped power. For that was not done till two or
three years after, in 1653, which neither he nor
you could foresee. What title then of Olivers
could he pretend to justify ? But you will say, he
placed the right of government there, wheresoever
should be the strength ; and so by consequence he
placed it in Oliver. Is that all ? Then primarily
his Leviathan was intended for your masters of
the Parliament, because the strength was then in
them. Why did they not thank him for it, both
they and Oliver in their turns ? There, Doctor,
you deciphered ill. For it was written in the behalf
of those many and faithful servants and subjects

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 421

of his Majesty, that had taken his part in the war,
or otherwise done their utmost endeavour to de-
fend his Majesty's right and person against the
rebels : whereby, having no other means of pro-
tection, nor, for the most part, of subsistence, they
were forced to compound with your masters, and
to promise obedience for the saving of their lives
and fortunes; which in his book he hath affirmed
they might lawfully do, and consequently not law-
fully bear arms against the victors. They that had
done their utmost endeavour to perform their obli-
gation to the King, had done all that they could be
obliged unto ; and were consequently at liberty to
seek the safety of their lives and livelihood where-
soever, and without treachery. But there is nothing
in that book to justify the submission of you, or
such as you, to the Parliament, after the King's being
driven from them, or to Oliver ; for you were the
King's enemies, and cannot pretend want of that
protection which you yourselves refused, denied,
fought against, and destroyed. If a man owe you
money, and you by robbing him, or other injury,
disable him to pay you, the fault is your own ; nor
needs this exception, unless the creditor rob him,
be put into the condition of the bond. Protection
and obedience are relative. He that says a man
may submit to an enemy for want of protection, can
never be construed, but that he meant it of the obe-
dient. But let us consider his words, when he puts
for a law of nature, (vol. iii. p. 703) that every man
is houndy as much as in him lieth, to protect in
war the authority by which he is himself protected
in time of peace ; which I think is no ungodly or
unreasonable principle. For confirmation of it, he
defines in what point of time it is, that* a subject

422 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

becomes obliged to obey an unjust conqueror ; and
defines it thus : it is that point wherein having
liberty to submit to the conqueror^ he consenteth
either by express words, or by other sttffieient
signs, to be his subject.

I cannot see, Doctor, how a man can be at liberty
to submit to his new, that has not first done all he
could for his old master : nor if he have done all
he could, why that liberty should be refused him.
If a man be taken by the Turk, and brought by
terror to fight against his former master, I see how
he may be killed for it as an enemy, but not as a
criminal ; nor can I see how he that hath liberty
to submit, can at the same time be bound not to
submit.

But you will say, perhaps, that he defines the
time of that liberty to the advantage of Oliver, in
that he says, that for an ordinary subject, it is
then, when the means of his life are within the
guards and garrisons of the enemy ; for it is
then, that he hath no protection but from the
enemy for his contribution. It was not necessary
for him to explain it to men of so great understand-
ing, as you and other his enemies pretend to be,
by putting in the exception, unless they came
into those guards and garrisons by their own
treason. Do you think that Oliver's party, for
their submission to Oliver, could pretend the want
of that protection ?

The words therefore by themselves, without that

exception, do signify no more than this ; that

whosoever had done as much as in him did lie, to

' protect the King in war, had liberty afterwards

to provide themselves of such protection as they

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 423

could get ; which to those whose means of life
were within the guards and garrisons of Oliver,
was Oliver's protection.

Do you think, when a battle is lost, and you at
the mercy of an enemy, it is unlawful to receive
quarter with condition of obedience ? Or if you
receive it on that condition, do you think it honesty
to break promise, and treacherously murder him
that gave you your life ? If that were good doc-
trine, he were a foolish enemy that would give
quarter to any man.

You see, then, that this submission to Oliver, or
to your then masters, is allowed by Mr. Hobbes
his doctrine only to the King's faithful party, and
not to any that fought against him, howsoever they
coloured it, by saying they fought for the King and
Parliament; nor to any that writ or preached
against his cause, or encouraged his adversaries ;
nor to any that betrayed his counsels, or that in-
tercepted or deciphered any letters of his, or of his
officers, or of any of his party ; nor to any that by
any way had contributed to the diminution of his
Majesty's power, ecclesiastical or civil ; nor does
it absolve any of them from their allegiance. You
that make it so heinous a crime for a man to save
himself from violent death, by a forced submission
to a usurper, should have considered what crime
it was to submit voluntarily to the usurping Par-
liament.

I can tell you besides, why those words were
put into his last chapter, which he calls the review.
It happened at that time that there were many
honourable persons, that having been faithful and
unblemished servants to the King, and soldiers in

i

424 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

his army, had their estates then sequestered ; of
whom some were fled, but the fortunes of them all
were at the mercy, not of Oliver, but of the Par-
liament. Some of these were admitted to compo-
sition, some not. They that compounded, though
they helped the Parliament less by their composi-
tion, than they should have done, if they had stood
out, by their confiscation, yet they were ill-spoken
of, especially by those that had no estates to lose,
nor hope to compound. And it was for this that
he added to what he had wTitten before, this cau-
tion, that if they would compound, they were to
do it bona fide^ without intention of treachery.
Wherein he justified their submission by their
former obedience, and present necessity ; but con-
demned treachery. Whereas you that pretend to
abhor atheism, condemn that which was done upon
necessity, and justify the treachery : and you had
reason for it, that cannot otherwise justify your-
selves. Those strugglings which happened after-
wards, lost his Majesty many a good and able
subject, and strengthened Oliver with the confis-
cation of their estates ; which if they had attended
the discord of their enemies, might have been saved.
Perhaps you will take for a sign of Mr. Hobbes
his ill meaning, that his Majesty was displeased
with him. And truly I believe he was displeased
for a while, but not very long. They that com-
plained of, and misconstrued his writings, were his
Majesty's good subjects, and reputed wise and
learned men, and thereby obtained to have their
misconstruction believed for some little time : but
the very next summer after his coming aw^ay, two
honourable persons of the Court, that came over

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 423

into England, assured him, that his Majesty had a
good opinion of him ; and others since have told
me, that his Majesty said openly, that he thought
Mr. Hobbes never meant him hurt. Besides, his
Majesty hath used him more graciously than is
ordinary to so humble a person as he is, and so
great a delinquent as you would make him ; and
testified his esteem of him in his bounty. What
argument now can you draw from hence more
than this, that his Majesty understood his writings
better than his accusers did ?

I admire in the next place^ upon what ground
you accuse him, and with him all those that have
approved his Leviathan^ with atheism. I thought
once, that that slander had had some, though not
firm, ground, in that you call his a new divinity :
but for that point he will allege these words of his
Leviathan (p. 438) : By which it seemeth to me
(with submission nevertheless^ both in this and all
other questions whereof the determination de-
pendeth on the Scriptures, to the interpretation of
the Bible authorized by the commonwealth, whose
subject I am), that, 8fc. What is there in these
words, but modesty and obedience ? But you were
at this time in actual rebellion. Mr. Hobbes, that
holds religion to be a law, did in order thereto
condemn the maintenance of any of his opinions
against the law ; and you that reproach him for
them, upon your own account should also have
shown by your own learning, wherein the Scrip-
ture, which was his sole proof, was miscited or
misconstrued by him; (for he submitted to the
laws, that is to say, to the King's doctrine, not to
yours) ; and not have insulted for the victory won

426 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

by the power of the law, to which you were then
an enemy.

Another argument of atheism you take from his
denying immaterial or incorporeal substances.
Let any man impartially now compare his religion
with yours, by this very measure, and judge which
of the two savours most of atheism.

It is by all Christians confessed^ that God is
incomprehensible; that is to say, that there is
nothing can arise in our fancy from the naming of
him, to resemble him either in shape, colour^
stature y or nature ; there is no idea of him ; he is
like nothing that we can think on. What then
ought we to say of him ? What attributes are to be
given him (not speaking otherwise than we think,
nor otherwise than is fit,) by those who mean to
honour him ? None but such as Mr. Hobbes hath
set down, namely, expressions of reverence, such
as are in use amongst men for signs of honour, and
consequently signify goodness, greatness, and
happiness ; and either absolutely put, as good,
holy, mighty, blessed, just, wise, merciful, &c., or
superlative, as most good, most great, most mighty,
almighty, most holy^ &c., or negative of whatso-
ever is not perfect, as infinite, eternal, and the
like : and not such as neither reason nor Scripture
hath approved for honourable. This is the doc-
trine that Mr. Hobbes hath written, both in his
Leviathan, and in his book De Cive, and when
occasion serves, maintains. What kind of attribute,
I pray you, is, immaterial, or incorporeal sub-
stance ? Where do you find it in the Scripture ?
Whence came it hither, but from Plato and Aris-
totle, heathens, who mistook those thin inhabitants

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 427

of the brain they see in sleep, for so many incor-
poreal men ; and yet allowed them motion, which
is proper only to things corporeal ? Do you think
it an honour to God to be one of these ? And would
you learn Christianity from Plato and Aristotle ?
But seeing there is no such word in the Scripture,
how will you warrant it from natural reason?
Neither Plato nor Aristotle did ever write of, or
mention, an incorporeal spirit. For they could not
conceive how a spirit, which in their language was
irvfv^o, in ours a wind, could be incorporeal. Do
you understand the connexion of substance and
incorporeal 9 If you do, explain it in English ;
for the words are Latin. It. is something, you will

say, that being without body, stands under .

Stands under what ? Will you say, under accidents ?
Almost all the Fathers of the Church will be against
you; and then you are an atheist. Is not Mr.
Hobbes his way of attributing to God, that only
which the Scriptures attribute to him, or what is
never any where taken but for honour, much better
than this bold undertaking of yours, to consider
and decipher God's nature to us ?

For a third argument of atheism, you put, that
he says : besides the creation of the world, there
is no argument to prove a Deity : and, that it
cannot be evinced by any argument that the world
had a beginning ; and, that whether it had or no,
is to be decided not by argument, but by the ma-
gistrate's authority. That it may be decided by
the Scriptures, he never denied ; therefore in that
also you slander him. And as for arguments from
natural reason, neither you, nor any other, have
hitherto brought any, except the creation, that has

428 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

not made it more doubtful to many men than it
was before. That which he hath written concern-
ing such arguments, in his book De Carpare:
opinions, saith he (vol. i. p. 412), concerning the
nature of infinite and eternal^ as the chief est of
the fruits of wisdomy God hath reserved to him--
self, and made judges of them those men whose
ministry he meant to use in the ordering of reli-
gion ; and therefore I cannot praise those men
that brag of demonstration of the beginning of
the world from natural reason : and again (vol. i,
p. 414), wherefore I pass hy those questions of
infinite and eternal, contenting myself with such
doctrine concerning the beginning and magni-
tude of the world, as I have learned from the
Scripture, confirmed by miracles, and from the
use of my country, and from the reverence I owe
to the law. This, Doctor, is not ill said, and yet it
is all you ground your slander on, which you make
to sneak vilely under a crooked paraphrase.

These opinions, I said, were to be judged by
those to whom God has committed the ordering of
rehgion ; that is. to the supreme governors of the
church, that is, in England, to the King : by his au-
thority, I say, it ought to be decided, not what men
shall think, but what they shall say in those ques-
tions. And methinks you should not dare to deny it ;
for it is a manifest relapse into your former crimes.

But why do you style the King by the name of
magistrate ? Do you find magistrate to signify
any where the person that hath the sovereign
power, or not every where the sovereign's officers.
And I think you knew that; but you and your
fellows (your fellows I call all those that are so

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 429

besmeared all over with the filth of the same crime,
as not to be distinguished) meant to make your
Assembly the sovereign, and the King your magis-
trate. I pray God you do not mean so still, if
opportunity be presented.

There has hitherto appeared in Mr. Hobbes his
doctrine, no sign of atheism ; and whatsoever can
be inferred from the denying of incorporeal sub-
stances^ makes Tertullian, one of the ancientest of
the Fathers, and most of the doctors of the Greek
Church, as much atheists as he. For Tertullian, in
his treatise De Came Christie says plainly: omne
quod est J corpus est sui generis. Nihil est incor-
porale, nisi quod non est : that is to say, wfiatso-
ever is anything ^ is a body of its kind. Nothing
is incorporeal, hut that which has no being. There
are many other places in him to the same purpose :
for that doctrine served his turn to confute the
heresy of them that held that Christ had no body,
but was a ghost ; also of the soul he speaks, as of
an invisible body. And there is an epitome of the
doctrine of the Eastern Church, wherein is this,
that they thought angels and souls were corporeal,
and only called incorporeal, because their bodies
were not like ours. And I have heard that a Pa-
triarch of Constantinople, in a Council held there,
did argue for the lawfulness of painting angels,
from this, that they were corporeal. You see what
fellows in' atheism you join with Mr. Hobbes.

How unfeigned your own religion is, may be
argued strongly, demonstratively, from your be-
haviour, that I have already recited. Do you
think, you that have committed so abominable sins,
not through infirmity, or sudden transport of pas-

430 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

sion, but premeditately, wilfully, for twenty yeare
together, that any rational man can think you
believe yourselves, when you preach of heaven and
hell, or that you do not believe one another to be
cheats and impostors, and laugh at silly people
in your sleeves for believing you ; or that you ap-
plaud not your own wit for it ; though for my part
I could never conceive that very much wit was
requisite for the making of a knave ? And in the
pulpit most of you have been a scandal to Chris-
tianity, by preaching up sedition, and crying down
moral virtue. You should have preached against
unjust ambition, covetousness, gluttony, malice,
disobedience to government, fraud, and hypocrisy:
but for the most part you preached your own con-
troversies, about who should be uppermost, or
other fruitless and unedifying doctrines. When
did any of you preach against hypocrisy 9 You
dare not in the pulpit, I think, so much as name
it, lest you set the church a laughing : and you in
particular, when you said in a sermon, that ao^fjliiq
was not in Homer. What edification could the
people have from that, though it had been true,
as it is false? For it is in his Iliad, xv. 412.
Another I heard make half his sermon of this doc-
trine, that God never sent a great deliverance, but
in a great danger : which is indeed true, because
the greatness of the danger makes the greatness of
the deliverance, but for the same cause ridiculous ;
and the other half he took to construe the Greek
of his text : and yet such sermons are much ap-
plauded. But why ? First, because they make not
the people ashamed of any vice. Secondly, be-
cause they like the preacher, for using to find faidt

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 431

with the government or governors. Thirdly, for
their vehemence, which they mistake for zeal.
Fourthly, for their zeal to their own ends, which
they mistake for zeal to God's worship. I have
heard besides divers sermons made by fanatics,
young men, and whom, by that and their habit, I
imagined to be apprentices ; and found little dif-
ference between their sermons, and the sermons of
such as you, either in respect of wisdom, or elo-
quence, or vehemence, or applause of common
people.

Therefore, I wonder how you can pretend, as
you do in your petition for a dispensation from
the ceremonies of the Church, to be either better
preachers than those that conform, or to have ten-
derer consciences than other men. You that have
covered such black designs with the sacred words
of Scripture, why can you not as well find in your
hearts to cover a black gown with a white surplice ?
Or what idolatry do you find in making the sign of
the cross, when the law commands it ? Though I
think you may conform without sin, yet I think you
might have been also dispensed with without sin, if
you had dispensed in like manner with other minis-
ters that subscribed to the articles of the Church.
And if tenderness of conscience be a good plea, you
must give Mr. Hobbes also leave to plead tenderness
of conscience to his new Divinity, as well as you. I
should wonder also, how any of you should dare to
speak to a multitude met together, without being
limited by his Majesty what they shall say, espe-
cially now that we have felt the smart of it, but
that it is a relic of the ecclesiastical policy of the
Popes, that found it necessary for the disjoining of

432 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

the people from their too close adherence to their
Kings or other civil governors.

But it may be you will say, that the rest of the
clergy, bishops, and episcopal men, no friends of
yours, and against whose office Mr. Hobbes never
writ anything, speak no better of his religion than
you do.

It is true, he never wrote against episcopacy ;
and it is his private opinion, that such an episco-
pacy as is now in England, is the most commodious
that a Christian King can use for the governing of
Christ's flock ; the misgoverning whereof the King
is to answer for to Christ, as the bishops are to
answer for their misgovemment to the King, and
to God also. Nor ever spake he ill of any of them,
as to their persons : therefore I should wonder the
more at the uncharitable censure of some of them,
but that I see a relic still remaining of the venom
of popish ambition, lurking in that seditious dU-
tinctio7i and division between the power spiritual
and civil; which they that are in love with a power
to hurt all those that stand in competition with
them for learning, as the Roman clergy had to
hurt Galileo, do not willingly forsake. All bishops
are not in every point like one another. Some, it
may be, are content to hold their authority from
the King's letters patents; and these have no
cause to be angry with Mr. Hobbes. Others will
needs have somewhat more, they know not what,
of divine right, to govern by virtue of imposition
of hands, and consecration^ not acknowledging
their power from the King, but immediately from
Christ. And these perhaps are they that are dis-
pleased with him, which he cannot help, nor has

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 433

deserved; but will for all that believe the King
only, and without sharers, to be the head of all the
Churches within his own dominions ; and that he
may dispense with ceremonies, or with anything
else that is not against the Scriptures, nor against
natural equity ; and that the consent of the Lords
and Commons cannot now give him that power,
but declare, for the people, their advice and consent
to it. Nor can he be made believe that the safety
of a state depends upon the safety of the Church, I
mean of the clergy. For neither is a clergy essen-
tial to a commonwealth ; and those ministers that
preached sedition, pretend to be of the clergy, as
well as the best. He believes rather that the safety
of the Church depends on the safety of the King,
and the entireness of the sovereign power ; and
that the King is no part of the flock of any minis-
ter or bishop, no more than the shepherd is of his
sheep, but of Christ only ; and all the clergy, as
well as the people, the King's flock. Nor can that
clamour of his adversaries make Mr. Hobbes think
himself a worse Christian than the best of them.
And how will you disprove it, either by his dis-
obedience, to the laws civil or ecclesiastical, or by
any ugly action ? Or how will you prove that the
obedience, which springs from scorn of injustice,
is less acceptable to God, than that which proceeds
from fear of punishment, or hope of benefit.
Gravity and heaviness of countenance are not so
good marks of assurance of God's favour, as cheer-
ful, charitable, and upright behaviour towards men,
which are better signs of religion than the zealous
maintaining of controverted doctrines. And there-
fore I am verily persuaded, it was not his Divinity
that displeased you or them, but somewhat else,

VOL. IV. F F

434 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

which you are not willing to pretend. As for your
party, that which angered yon, I believe, was tins
passage of his Leviathan (vol. iii. p. 160) ; Whereat
some men have pretended for their disobedience to
their sovereign ^ a new covenant made^not with men,
hut with God; this also is unjust. For there is no
covenant with God, but by mediation of somebody
that representeth Gods person ; which none doth
but God's lieutenant, who hath the sovereignty
under God. But this pretence of covenant with
God, is so evident a lie, (this is it that angered yon),
even in the pretenders' own consciences, that it is
not only an act of an unjust, but also of a vile and
unmanly disposition.

Besides, his making the King judge of doctrines
to be preached or published, hath oflTended you
both ; so has also his attributing to the civil sove-
reign all power sacerdotal. But this perhaps may
seem hard, when the sovereignty is in a Queen.
But it is because you are not subtle enough to per-
ceive, that though man be inale and feinale, au-
thority is not. To please neither party is easy ;
but to please both, unless you could better agree
amongst yourselves than you do, is impossible.
Your differences have troubled the kingdom, as if
you were the houses revived of York and Lancas-
ter. A man would wonder how a little Latin and
Greek should work so mightily, when the Scrip-
tures are in English, as that the King and Parlia-
ment can hardly keep you quiet, especially in time
of danger from abroad. If you will needs quarrel,
decide it amongst yourselves, and draw not the
people into your parties.

You were angry also for his blaming the scho-
lastical philosophers, and denying such fine things

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 435

as these: that the species or apparences of
bodies come from the thing we look on, into the
eye, and so make us see ; and into the understand-
ing, to make us understand; and into the memory,
to make us remember : that a body may be just the
same it was, and yet bigger or lesser : that
eternity is a permanent now; and the like : and
for detecting, further than you thought fit, the
fraud of the Roman clergy. Your dislike of his
divinity, was the least cause of your calling him
atheist. But no more of this now.

The next head of your contumelies is to make
him contemptible, and to move Mr. Boyle to pity
him. This is a way of railing too much beaten to
be thought witty. As for the thing itself, I doubt
your intelligence is not good, and that you algebri-
cians, and non-conformists, do but feign it, to com-
fort one another. For your own part, you contemn
him not, or else you did very foolishly to entitle
the beginning of your book, Mr. Hobbes con-
sidered ; which argues he is considerable enough
to you. Besides, it is no argument of contempt, to
spend upon him so many angry lines as would have
famished you with a dozen of sermons. If you had
in good earnest despised him, you would have let
him alone, as he does Dr. Ward, Mr. Baxter, Pike,
and others, that have reviled him as you do. As
for his reputation beyond the seas, it fades not yet :
and because perhaps you have no means to know
it, I will cite you a passage of an Epistle, written
by a learned Frenchman to an eminent person
in France, a passage not impertinent to the point
now in question. It is in a volume of Epistles,
the fourth in order, and the words (page 167)
concerning chemists, are these : Truly, Sir, as

F F 2

436 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

mtich as I admire them, when I see them lute an
alembic handsomely^ filter a liquor , build an
athanor, so much I dislike them when I hear them
discourse upon the subject of their operations;
and yet they think all they do, is nothing in re-
spect of what they say. I wish they would take
less pains, and be at less charges ; and whilst
they wa^h their hands cifter their work, they
would leave to those that attend to the polishing
of their discourse, I mean, the Galileos, the
Descarteses, the Hobbeses, the Bacons, and the
Gassendis, to reason upon their work, and them-
selves to hear what the learned and judicious shall
tell them, such as are used to discern the differ-
ences of things. Quam scit uterque libens censebo
exerceat artem. And more to the same purpose.

What is here said of chymists, is applicable to
all other mechanics.

Every man that hath spare money, can get fur-
naces, and buy coals. Every man that hath spare
money, can be at the charge of making great
moulds, and hiring w^orkraen to grind their glasses ;
and so may have the best and greatest telescopes.
They can get engines made, and apply them to the
stars ; recipients made, and try conclusions ; but
they are never the more philosophers for all this.
It is laudable, I confess, to bestow money upon
curious or useful delights ; but that is none of the
praises of a philosopher. And yet, because the
multitude cannot judge, they will pass with the
unskilful, for skilful in all parts of natural philoso-
phy. And I hear now% that Hugenius and Eusta-
chio Divini are to be tried by their glasses, who is
the more skilful in optics of the two ; but for my
part, before Mr. Hobbes his book De Homi^ie came

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 437

forth, I never saw any thing written on that subject
intelligibly. Do not you tell me now, according
to your wonted ingenuity, that I never saw Euclid's,
Vitellio's, and many other men's Optics ; as if I
could not distinguish between geometry and optics.

So also of all other arts; not every one that
brings from beyond seas a new gin, or other jaunty
device, is therefore a philosopher. For if you
reckon that way, not only apothecaries and gar-
deners, but many other sorts of workmen, will put
in for, and get the prize. Then, when I see the
gentlemen of Gresham College apply themselves to
the doctrine of motion, (as Mr. Hobbes has done,
and will be ready to help them in it, if they please,
and so long as they use him civilly,) I will look to
know some causes of natural events from them,
and their register, and not before : for nature does
nothing but by motion.

I hear that the reason given by Mr. Hobbes,
why the drop of glass so much wondered at, shivers
into so many pieces, by breaking only one small
part of it, is approved for probable, and registered
in their college. But he has no reason to take it
for a favour : because hereafter the invention may
be taken, by that means, not for his, but theirs.

To the rest of your calumnies the answers will
be short, and such as you might easily have fore-
seen. And first, for his boasting of his learning, it
is well summed up by you in these words : // was
a motion made by one, whom I will not name, that
some idle person should read over all his hooks,
and collecting together his arrogant and super-
cilious speeches, applauding himself, and despis-
ing all other men, set them forth in one synopsis,
with this title, Hobbius de se. What a pretty

438 CONSIDERATIONS UPON

piece of pageantry this would fnake, I shall leace
to your own thoughts.

Thus say you : now says Mr. Hobbes, or I for
him, let your idle person do it, and set down no
more than he has written, as high praises as they
be, I will promise you he shall acknowledge them
under his hand, and be commended for it, and you
scorned. A certain Roman senator having pro-
pounded something in the assembly of the people,
which they misliking made a noise at, boldly bade
them hold their peace, and told them he knew
better what was good for the commonwealth than
all they. And his words are transmitted to us as
an argument of his virtue ; so much do truth and
vanity alter the complexion of self-praise. Besides,
you can have very little skill in morality, that can-
not see the justice of commending a man's self, as
well as of anything else, in his own defence : and
it was want of prudence in you, to constrain him
to a thing that would so much displease you. That
part of his self-praise which most offends you, is in
the end of his Leviathan (page 713), in these words :
Therefore I think it may he profitably printed^ and
more profitably taught in the Universities, in case
they also think so, to whom the judgme^it of the
same belong eth. Let any man consider the truth
of it. Where did those ministers learn their sedi-
tious doctrine, and to preach it, but there ? Where
therefore should preachers learn to teach loyalty,
but there ? And if your principles produced civil
war, must not the contrary principles, which are
his, produce peace ? And consequently his book,
as far as it handles civil doctrine, deserves to be
taught there. But when can this be done ? When
you shall have no longer an army ready to main-

THE REPUTATION OF T. HOBBES. 439

tain the evil doctrine wherewith you have infected
the people. By a ready army^ I mean arms, and
money, and men enough, though not yet in pay,
and put under officers, yet gathered together in
one place or city, to be put under officers, armed,
and paid on any sudden occasion; such as are
the people of a great and populous town. Every
great city is as a standing army, which if it be not
under the sovereign's command, the people are
miserable; if they be, they maybe taught their duties
in the Universities safely and easily, and be happy.
I never read of any Christian king that was a tyrant,
though the best of kings have been called so.

Then for the morosity and peevishness you
charge him with, all that know him familiarly,
know it is a false accusation. But you mean, it
may be, only towards those that argue against his
opinion ; but neither is that true. When vain and
ignorant young scholars, unknown to him before,
come to him on purpose to argue with him, and to
extort applause for their foolish opinions ; and,
missing of their end, fall into indiscreet and un-
civil expressions, and he then appear not very well
contented : it is not his morosity, but their vanity
that should be blamed. But what humour, if not
morosity and peevishness, was that of yours, whom
he never had injured, or seen, or heard of, to use
toward him such insolent, injurious, and clownish
words, as you did in your absurd Elenchus ?

Was it not impatience of seeing any dissent from
you in opinion ? Mr. Hobbes has been always far
from provoking any man, though when he is pro-
voked, you find his pen as sharp as yours.

Again, when you make his age a reproach to
him, and show no cause that might impair the

440 CONSIDERATIONS, ETC.

faculties of his mind, but only age, I admire how
you saw not that you reproached all old men in
the world as much as him, and warranted all young
men, at a certain time, which they themselves
shall define, to call you fool. Your dislike of old
age, you have also otherwise sufficiently signified,
in venturing so fairly as you have done to escape
it. But that is no great matter to one that hath
so many marks upon him of much greater re-
proaches. By Mr. Hobbes his calculation, that de-
rives prudence from experience, and experience from
age, you are a very young man ; but by your own
reckoning, you 'are older already than Methuselah.
Lastly, who told you that he writ against Mr.
Boyle, whom in his writing he never mentioned,
and that it was, because Mr. Boyle was acquainted
with you ? I know the contrary. I have heard
him wish it had been some person of lower condi-
tion, that had been the author of the doctrine w^hich
he opposed, and therefore opposed because it was
false, and because his own could not othervrtse be
defended. But thus much I think is true, that he
thought never the better of his judgment, for mis-
taking you for learned. This is all I thought fit to
answer for him and his manners. The rest is of
his geometry and philosophy, concerning which, I
say only this, that there is too much in your book
to be confuted ; almost every line may be dis-
proved, or ought to be reprehended. In sum, it is
all error and railing, that is, stinking wind ; such
as a jade lets fly, when he is too hard girt upon a
full belly. I have done. I have considered you
now, but will not again, whatsoever preferment
any of your friends shall procure you.

THE ANSWER

OF

ME. HOBBES

TO

SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT'S

PREFACE BEFORE GONDIBERT.

THE ANSWER

TO THE PREFACE TO GONDIBERT.

Sir,

If to commend your poem, I should only say, in
general terms, that in the choice of your argument,
the disposition of the parts, the maintenance of the
characters of your persons, the dignity and vigour
of your expression, you have performed all the
parts of various experience, ready memory, clear
judgment, swift and well-governed fancy : though
it were enough for the truth, it were too little for
the weight and credit of my testimony. For I lie
open to two exceptions, one of an incompetent,
the other of a corrupted witness. Incompetent,
because I am not a poet ; and corrupted with the
honour done me by your .preface. The former
obliges me to say something, by the way, of the
nature and diflFerences of poesy.

As philosophers have divided the universe, their
subject, into three regions, celestial, aerialy and
terrestial ; so the poets, whose work it is, by imi-
tating human life, in delightful and measured lines,
to avert men from vice, and incline them to vir-
tuous and honourable actions, have lodged them-
selves in the three regions of mankind, courts city,
and country, correspondent, in some proportion,
to those three regions of the world. For there is
in princes, and men of conspicuous power, anciently

444 ANSWER

called heroeSy a lustre and influence upon the rest
of men, resembling that of the heavens ; and an in-
sincereness, inconstancy, and troublesome humour
in those that dwell in populous cities, like the
mobility, blustering, and impurity of the air ; and
a plainness, and, though dull, yet a nutritive faculty
in rural people, that endures a comparison with
the earth they labour.

From hence have proceeded three sorts of poesy,
heroic^ scommaticy and pastoral. Every one of
these is distinguished again in the manner of repre-
sentation ; which sometimes is narrative^ wherein
the poet himself relateth ; and sometimes dramatic^
as when the persons are every one adorned and
brought upon the theatre, to speak and act their
own parts. There is therefore neither more nor less
than six sorts of poesy. For the heroic poem nar-
rative, such as is yours, is called an epic poem ;
the heroic poem dramatic, is tragedy. The scom-
matic narrative is satire ; dramatic is comedy.
The pastoral narrative, is called simply pastoral^
anciently bucolic ; the same dramatic, pastoral
comedy. The figure therefore of an epic poem,
and of a tragedy, ought to be the same : for they
differ no more but in that they are pronounced by
one, or many persons ; which I insert to justify
the figure of yours, consisting of five books divided
into songs, or cantos; as five acts divided into
scenes, has ever been the approved figure of a
tragedy.

They that take for poesy whatsoever is writ in
verse, will think this division imperfect, and call in
sonnets, epigrams, eclogues, and the like pieces,
which are but essays, and parts of an entire poem ;

TO THE PREFACE TO 60NDIBERT. 445

and reckon Empedocles and Lucretius^ natural
philosophers, for poets ; and the moral precepts of
Phocylides Theognis, and the quatrsuns of Pybrach,
and the history of Lucan, and others of that kmd,
amongst poems : bestowing on such writers, for
honour, the name of poets, rather than of histo-
rians or philosophers. But the subject of a poem
is the manners of men, not natural causes ; man-
ners presented, not dictated ; and manners feigned,
as the name of poesy imports, not found in men.
They that give entrance to fictions writ in prose, err
not so much ; but they err ; for prose requireth de-
hghtfulness, not only of fiction, but of style ; in
which if prose contend with verse, it is with dis-
advantage and, as it were, on foot against the
strength and wings of Pegasus.

For verse amongst the Greeks was appropriated
anciently to the service of their Gods, and was the
holy style ; the style of the oracles ; the style of
the laws ; and the style of the men that publicly
recommended to their Gods the vows and thanks
of the people, which was done in their holy songs
called hymns ; and the composers of them were
called prophets and priests, before the name of
poet was known. When afterwards the majesty
of that style was observed, the poets chose it as
best becoming their high invention. And for the
antiquity of verse, it is greater than the antiquity
of letters. For it is certain, Cadmus was the first
that from Phoenicia, a country that neighboureth
Judea, brought the use of letters into Greece. But
the service of the Gods, and the laws, which by
measured sounds were easily committed to the me-
mory, had been long time in use before the arrival
of Cadmus there.

446 ANSWER

There is, besides the grace of style, another cause
why the ancient poets chose to write in measured
langaage ; which is this. Their poems were made
at first with intention to have them sung, as well
epic as dramatic (which custom hath been long
time laid aside, but began to be revived in part, of
late years, in Italy,) and could not be made com-
mensurable to the voice or instruments, in prose ;
the ways and motions whereof are so uncertain and
imdistinguished, like the way and motion of a ship
in the sea, as not only to discompose the best com-
posers, but also to disappoint sometimes the most
attentive reader, and put him to hunt counter for
the sense. It was therefore necessary for poets in
those times to write in verse.

The verse which the Greeks and Latins, consi-
dering the nature of their own languages, found
by experience most grave, and for an epic poem
most decent, was their hexameter ; a verse limited
not only in the length of the line, but also in the
quantity of the syllables. Instead of which we use
the line of ten syllables, recompensing the neglect
of their quantity with the diligence of rhyme.
And this measure is so proper to an heroic poem,
as without some loss of gravity or dignity, it was
never changed. A longer is not far from ill prose ;
and a shorter, is a kind of whisking, you know,
like the unlacing, rather than the singing of a muse.
In an epigram or a sonnet, a man may vary his
measures, and seek glory from a needless difficulty ;
as he that contrived verses into the forms of an
organ, a hatchet, an egg, an altar, and a pair of
wings ; but in so great and noble a work as is an
epic poem, for a man to obstruct his own way with

TO THE PREFACE TO GONDIBERT. 447

unprofitable difiiculties, is great imprudence. So
likewise to choose a needless and difficult corres-
pondence of rhyme, is but a difficult toy, and
forces a man sometimes, for the stopping of a chink,
to say somewhat he did never think. I cannot
therefore but very much approve your stanza,
wherein the syllables in every verse are ten, and
the rhyme alternate.

For the choice of your subject you have suffi-
ciently justified yourself in your preface. But
because I have observed in Virgil, that the honour
done to iEneas and his companions, has so bright a
reflection upon Augustus Caesar, and other great
Romans of that time, as a man may suspect him not
constantly possessed with the noble spirit of those
his heroes ; and I believe you are not acquainted
with any great man of the race of Gondibert, I add
to your justification the purity of your purpose, in
having no other motive of your labour, but to adorn
virtue, and procure her lovers ; than which there
cannot be a worthier design, and more becoming
noble poesy.

In that you make so small account of the ex-
ample of almost all the approved poets, ancient
and modem, who thought fit in the beginning, and
sometimes also in the progress of their poems, to
invoke a Muse, or some other deity, that should
dictate to them, or assist them in their writings ;
they that take not the laws of art, from any reason
of their own, but from the fashion of precedent
times, will perhaps accuse your singularity. For
my part, I neither subscribe to their accusation,
nor yet condemn that heathen custom, otherwise
than as accessory to their false religion. For their

448 ANSWER

poets were their divines; had the name of prophets;
exercised amongst the people a kind of spiritual
authority ; would be thought to speak by a divine
spirit ; have their works which they writ in verse
(the divine style) pass for the word of God, and not
of man, and to be hearkened to with reverence.
Do not the divines, excepting the style, do the
same, and by us that are of the same religion can-
not justly be reprehended for it ? Besides, in the
use of the spiritual calling of divines, there is dan-
ger sometimes to be feared, from want of skill, such
as is reported of unskilful conjurers, that mistaking
the rites and ceremonious points of their art, call
up such spirits, as they cannot at their pleasure
allay again ; by whom storms are raised, that over-
throw buildings, and are the cause of miserable
wrecks at sea. Unskilful divines do oftentimes
the like ; for when they call unseasonably for zeal^
there appears a spirit of cruelty/; and by the
like error, instead of truth, they raise discord;
instead of wisdom^ fraud ; instead of reforma-
tion, tumult ; and controversy, instead of religion.
Whereas in the heathen poets, at least in those
whose works have lasted to the time we are in,
there are none of those indiscretions to be found,
that tended to the subversion, or disturbance of
the commonwealths wherein they lived. But why
a Christian should think it an ornament to his
poem, either to profane the true God, or invoke
a false one, I can imagine no cause, but a reasonless
imitation of custom ; of a foolish custom, by which
a man enabled to speak wisely from the principles
of nature, and his own meditation, loves rather to
be thought to speak by inspiration, like a bagpipe.

TO THE PREFACE TO GONDIBERT. 449

Time and education beget experience; experi-
ence begets memory; memory begets judgment and
iancy ; judgment begets, the strength and structure,
and fancy begets the ornaments of a poem. The
ancients therefore fabled not absurdly, in making
Memory the mother of the Muses. For memory
is the world, though not really, yet so as in a look-
ing-glass, in which the judgment, the severer sister,
busieth herself in a grave and rigid examination of
all the parts of nature, and in registering by letters
their order, causes, uses, diflferences, and resem-
blances ; whereby the fancy, when any work of art
is to be performed, finds her materials at hand
and prepared for use, and needs no more than a
swift motion over them, that what she wants, and
is there to be had, may not lie too long unespied.
So that when she seemeth to fly from one Indies
to the other, and from heaven to earth, and to
penetrate into the hardest matter and obscurest
places, into the future, and into herself, and all
this in a point of time, the voyage is not very great,
herself being all she seeks. And her wonderful
celerity, consisteth not so much in motion, as in
copious imagery discreetly ordered, and perfectly
registered in the memory ; which most men under
the name of philosophy have a glimpse of, and is
pretended to by many, that grossly mistaking her,
embrace contention in her place. But so far forth
as the fancy of man has traced the ways of true
philosophy, so far it hath produced very marvellous
eflFects to the benefit of mankind. All that is beau-
tiful or defensible in building ; or marvellous in
engines and instruments of motion ; whatsoever
commodity men receive from the observations of

VOL. IV. G G

450 ANSWER

the heavens, from the desciiption of the earth, from
the account of time, from walking on the seas ; and
whatsoever distinguisheth the civility of Europe,
from the barbarity of the American savages ; is the
workmanship of fancy, but guided by the precepts
of true philosophy. But where these precepts fail,
as they have hitherto failed in the doctrine of moral
virtue, there the architect Fancy must take the
philosopher's part upon herself. He, therefore, who
undertakes an heroic poem, which is to exhibit a
venerable and amiable image of heroic virtue, must
not only be the poet, to place and connect, but also
the philosopher, to furnish and square his matter ;
that is, to make both body and soul, colour and
shadow of his poem out of his own store ; which,
how well you have performed I am now considering.
Observing how few the persons be you introduce
in the beginning, and how in the course of the
actions of these, the number increasing, after se-
veral confluences, they run all at last into the two
principal streams of your poem, Gondihert and
Oswald^ methinks the fable is not much unlike
the theatre. For so, from several and far distant
sources, do the lesser brooks of Lombardy, flowing
into one another, fall all at last into the two main
rivers, the Po and the Adige. It hath the same re-
semblance also with a man's veins, which proceeding
from different parts, after the like concourse, insert
themselves at last into the two principal veins of
the body. But when I considered that also the ac-
tions of men, which singly are inconsiderable, after
many conjunctures, grow at last either into one
great protecting power, or into two destroying
factions, I could not but approve the structure of

TO THB PREFACB TO GONDIBERT. 451

your poem, which ought to be no other than snch
88 an imitation of human life requireth.

In the streams themselves I find nothing but
settled valour, clean honour, calm counsel, learned
diversion, and pure love ; save only a torrent or
two of ambition, which, though a fault, has some-
what heroic in it, and therefore must have place in
an heroic poem. To shew the reader in what place
he shall find every excellent picture of virtue you
have drawn, is too long. And to show him one,
is to prejudice the rest ; yet I cannot forbear to
point him to the description of love in the person
of Bertha, in the seventh canto of the second book.
There has nothing been said of that subject, neither
by the ancient nor modem poets, comparable to it.
Poets are painters; I would fain see another painter
draw so true, perfect, and natural a love to the
life, and make use of nothing but pure lines, with-
out the help of any the least uncomely shadow, as
you have done. But let it be read as a piece by
itself: for in the almost equal height of the whole,
the eminence of parts is lost.

There are some that are not pleased with fiction,
unless it be bold ; not only to exceed the worh^
but also the possibility of nature ; they would have
impenetrable armours, enchanted castles, invulner-
able bodies, iron men, flying horses, and a thousand
other such things, which are easily feigned by them
that dare. Against such I defend you, without as-
senting to those that condemn either Homer or
Virgil ; by dissenting only from those that think the
beauty of a poem consisteth in the exorbitancy of
the fiction. For as truth is the bound of historical,
so the resemblance of truth is the utmost limit of

452 ANSWER

poetical liberty. In old time amongst the heathen,
such strange fictions and metamorphoses were not
so remote from the articles of their faith, as they
are now from ours, and therefore were not so un-
pleasant. Beyond the actual works of nature a
poet may now go ; but beyond the conceived possi-
bility of nature, never. I can allow a geographer
to make in the sea, a fish or a ship, which by the
scale of his map would be two or three hundred
miles long, and think it done for ornament, because
it is done without the precincts of his undertaking:
but when he paints an elephant so, I presently ap-
prehend it as ignorance, and a plain confession of
terra incognita.

As the description of great men and great actions
is the constant design of a poet ; so the descrip-
tions of worthy circumstances are necessary acces^
sions to a poem, and being well performed, are the
jewels and most precious ornaments of poesy. Such
in Virgil are the funeral games of Anchises, the
duel of iEneas and Turnus, &c. And such in yoiu*s,
are the Huntingy the Battle^ the City Mourningy
the Funeraly tlie House of Astragon, the Library
and the Temple ; equal to his, or those of Homer
whom he imitated.

There remains now no more to be considered but
the expression, in which consisteth the countenance
and colour of a beautiful Muse ; and is given her
by the poet out of his own provision, or is bor-
rowed from others. That which he hath of his
own, is nothing but experience and knowledge of
nature, and specially human nature; and is the true
and natural colour. But that which is taken out
of books, the ordinary boxes of counterfeit com-

TO THE PREFACE TO GONDIBERT. 453

plexion, shows well or ill, as it hath more or less
resemblance with the natural ; and are not to be
used without examination unadvisedly. For in
him that professes the imitation of nature, as all
poets do, what greater fault can there be, than to
betray an ignorance of nature in his poem ; espe-
cially, having a liberty allowed him, if he meet with
any thing he cannot master, to leave it out ?

That which giveth a poem the true and natural
colour, consisteth in two things ; which are, to know
well, that is^ to have images of nature in the me-
mory distinct and clear ; and to know much. A
sign of the first is perspicuity, propriety, and de-
cency ; which delight all sorts of men, either by
instructing the ignorant, or soothing the learned in
their knowledge. A sign of the latter is novelty of
expression, and pleaseth by excitation of the mind ;
for novelty causeth admiration, and admiration cu-
riosity, which is a delightful appetite of knowledge.

There be so many words in use at this day in the
English tongue, that, though of magnific sound,
yet like the windy blisters of troubled waters, have
no sense at all, and so many others that lose their
meaning by being ill coupled; that it is a hard
matter to avoid them. For having been obtruded
upon youth in the schools, by such as make it, I
think, their business there, as it is expressed by
the best poet

" With terms to charm the weak and pose the wise,"

GoMDiBERT, Book ii. Canto 5, verse 44.

they grow up with them, and gaining reputation
with the ignorant, are not easily shaken oflF.
To this palpable darkness, I may also add the

\

454 ANSWER

ambitioiis obscurity of expressing more than is per-
fectly conceived ; or perfect conception in fewer
words than it requires. Which expressions, though
they have had the honour to be called strong lines,
are indeed no better than riddles, and not only to
the reader, but also after a little time to the writer
himself, dark and troublesome.

To the propriety of expression I refer that clear-
ness of memory, by which a poet when he hath
once introduced any person whatsoever, speaking
in his poem, maintaineth in him to the end the
same character he gave him in the beginning. The
variation whereof, is a change of pace, that argues
the poet tired.

Of the indecencies of an heroic poem, the most
remarkable are those that show disproportion either
between the persons and their actions, or between
the manners of the poet and the poem. Of the
first kind, is the uncomeliness of representing in
great persons the inhuman vice of cruelty, or the
sordid vices of lust and drunkenness. To such
parts, as those the ancient approved poets thought
it fit to suborn, not the persons of men, but of
monsters and beastly giants, such as Polyphemus,
Cacus, and the Centaurs. For it is supposed a
Muse, when she is invoked to sing a song of that
nature, should maidenly advise the poet to set
such persons to sing their own vices upon the stage ;
for it is not so unseemly in a tragedy. Of the
same kind it is to represent scurrility, or any ac-
tion or language that moveth much langhter. The
delight of an epic poem consisteth not in mirth,
but admiration. Mirth and laughter are proper to
comedy and satire. Great persons, that have their

TO THB PREFACE TO GONDIBERT. 435

minds employed on great designs, have not leisure
enough to laugh, and are pleased with the con-
templation of their own power and virtues, so as
they need not the infirmities and vices of other
men to recommend themselves to their own favour
by comparison, as all men do when they laugh.
Of the second kind, where the disproportion is be-
tween the poet and the persons of his poem, one
is in the dialect of the inferior sort of people, which
is always different from the language of the court.
Another is, to derive the illustration of any thing
from such metaphors or comparisons as cannot
come into men's thoughts, but by mean conversa-
tion, and experience of humble or evil arts, which
the person of an epic poem cannot be thought
acquainted with.

From knowing much, proceedeth the admirable
variety and novelty of metaphors and similitudes,
which are not possible to be lighted on in the com-
pass of a narrow knowledge. And the want whereof
compelleth a writer to expressions that are either
defaced by time, or sullied with vulgar or long use.
For the phrases of poesy, as the airs of music, with
often hearing become insipid; the reader having no
more sense of their force, than our flesh is sensible
of the bones that sustain it. As the sense we have
of bodies, consisteth in change of variety of im-
pression, so also does the sense of language in the
variety and changeable use of words. I mean not
in the affectation of words newly brought home
from travel, but in new, and withal significant,
translation to our purposes, of those that be already
received ; and in far-fetched, but withal, apt, in-
structive, and comely similitudes.

456 ANSWER

Having thus, I hope, avoided the first exception,
against the incompetency of my judgment, I am
but little moved with the second, which is of being
bribed by the honour you have done me, by attri-
buting in your preface somewhat to my judgment.
For I have used your judgment no less in many
things of mine, which coming to light will thereby
appear the better. And so you have your bribe
again.

Having thus made way for the admission of my
testimony, I give it briefly thus. I never yet saw
poem, that had so much shape of art, health of
morality, and vigour and beauty of expression, as
this of yours. And but for the clamour of the
multitude, that hide their envy of the present
under a reverence of antiquity, I should say further,
that it would last as long as either the jEneidy
or Iliadj but for one disadvantage ; and the dis-
advantage is this ; the languages of the Greeks and
Romans, by their colonies and conquests, have put
off* flesh and blood, and are become immutable,
which none of the modern tongues are like to be.
I honour antiquity ; but that which is commonly
called old timej is young time. The glory of an-
tiquity is due, not to the dead, but to the aged.

And now, whilst I think of it, give me leave
with a short discord to sweeten the harmony of
the approaching close. I have nothing to object
against your poem ; but dissent only from some-
thing in your preface, sounding to the prejudice of
age. It is commonly said, that old age is a return
to childhood. Which methinks you insist on so
long, as if you desired it should be believed. That
is the note I mean to shake a little. That saying, '

TO GONDIBERT. 46/

meant only of the weakness of body, was wrested
to the weakness of mind, by froward children,
weary of the controlment of their parents, masters,
and other admonitors. Secondly, the dotage and
childishness they ascribe to age, is never the effect
of time, but sometimes of the excesses of youth,
^id not a returning to, but a continual stay, with
childhood. For they that wanting the curiosity of
famishing their memories with the rarities of na-
ture in their youth, pass their time in making
provision only for their ease and sensual delight,
are children still at what years soever ; as they
that coming into a populous city, never going out
of their inn, are strangers still, how long soever
they have been there. Thirdly, there is no reason
for any man to think himselif wiser to-day than
yesterday, which does not equally convince he shall
be wiser to-morrow than to-day. Fourthly, you
v^rill be forced to change your opinion hereafter
when you are old; and in the mean time you
discredit all I have said before in your commenda-
tion, because I am old already. But no more
of this.

I believe. Sir, you have seen a curious kind of
perspective, where he that looks through a short hol-
low pipe upon a picture containing divers figures,
sees none of those that are there painted, but some
one person made up of their parts, conveyed to the
eye by the artificial cutting of a glass. I find in
my imagination an efifect not unlike it, from your
poem. The virtues you distribute there amongst
so many noble persons, represent, in the reading,
the image but of one man's virtue to my fancy,
which is your own ; and that so deeply imprinted,

VOL. IV. H H

458 ANSWER, ETC.

as to stay for ever there, and govern all the rest of
my thoughts and affections in the way of honour-
ing and serving you to the utmost of my power,

that am,

Sir,

Your most humble and obedient servant,

Thomas Hobbes.

Paris, Jan. 10, 1650.

LETTER TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE EDW. HOWARD.*

To THE Right Hon. Mr. Edward Howard.

Sir,
My judgment in poetry hath, you know, been once
already censured by very good wits, for commend-
ing Gondihert ; but yet they have not, I think,
disabled my testimony. For what authority is
there in wit ? A jester may have it ; a man in
drink may have it ; be fluent over night, and wse
and dry in the morning. What is it ? Or who
can tell whether it be better "to have it or be with-

* This letter is here printed from the autograph of Mr. Hobbes,
now in the possession of Rowland Eyles Egerton Warburton, Esq .
of Arley Hall, Cheshire. The same letter, with the variations
hereafter noticed, was prefixed to Mr. Howard's poem, " The
British Princes^*' published in 1669 : it is there addressed " To
the Honourable Edward Howard, Esq. on his intended impression
of his poem of the * British Princes/ " and is subscribed,

*' / need say no more, but rest.
Your Honours most humble and obedient servant,
Chatsworthy Nov, the 6/A, 1668. Thomas Hobbs.**

LETTER TO MR. HOWARD. 459

out it, especially if it be a pointed wit ? I will
take my liberty to praise what I like, as well as
they do to reprehend what they do not like. Your
poem, Sir, contains a well and judiciously con-
trived story, fiill of admirable and heroic actions, set
forth in noble and perspicuous language, such as
becomes the dignity of the persons you introduce :
which two things of themselves are the heighth
of poetry. I know that variety of story, true or
feigned, is the thing wherewith the reader is
entertained most delightfully. And this also to
the smallness of the volume is not wanting. Yours
is but one small piece ; whereas the poets that are
with us so much admired, have taken larger sub-
jects. But let an English reader, in Homer or
Virgil in English, by whomsoever translated, read
one piece by itself, no greater than yours ; I may
make a question whether he will be less pleased
with yours than his. I know you do not equal
your poem to either of theirs : the bulk of the work
does not distinguish the art of the workman. [The
Battle of Mice and Frogs may be owned without
disparagement by Homer himself. Yet if Homer
had written nothing else, he never had had the
reputation of so admirable a poet as he was.] * Ajax

* The passage between brackets is omitted in the letter pre-
fixed to the British Princes, and the following is substituted for
it : " Besides 'lis a virtue in a poet to advance the honour of his
remotest ancestors, especially when it has not been done before,
Whaty though you out-go the limits of certain history? Do
painters, when they paint the face of the earth, leave a blank
beyond what they know P Do not they fill up the space with
strange rocks, monsters, and other gallantry, to fix their work in
the memory of men by the delight of fancy P So will your
readers from this poem think honourably of their original, which is
a kind of piety.*'

460 LETTBR TO MR. HOWARD.

was a man of very great stature, and Teucer a very
little person : yet he was brother to Ajax, both in
blood and chivalry. I commend your poem for
judgment, not for bxdk ; and am assured it will be
welcome to the world with its own confidence ;
though if it come forth armed with verses and
epistles, I cannot tell what to think of it. For the
great wits will think themselves threatened, and
rebel. Unusual fortifications upon the borders,
carry with them a suspicion of hostility. And
poets will think such letters of commendation a
kind of confederacy and league, tending to usurp
upon their liberty. [I have told you my judgment,
and you may make use of it as you please. But I
remember a line or two in your poem, that touched
upon divinity, wherein we diflFered in opinion. But
since you say the book is licensed, I shall think no
more upon it, but only reserve my liberty of dis-
senting, which I know you will allow me.] * I rest.

Sir,
Your most humble and obedient servant,

Thomas Hobbes.

Chatsworth,
October the 24th, 1668.

* This passage is omitted in the *^ British Princes."

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his services to collate the various editions, to verify all the References, and to
supply additional Notes where necessary. He has likewise determined, on account
of the extreme rarity of many of the Authors cited by Dr. Field, to give his quo-
tations at full length at the bottom of each page ; and at the end of every chap-
ter a brief list of writers, especially of English Divines, who have treated on the
same subject : thus rendering the work a Text Book of Theology.

As the rarity of this masterpiece of one of our most eminent Divines has pre-
vented its being so universally knoi/vn as it deserves to be, the Publisher may be
pardoned for citing a few among the numerous commendations in its favour.

Coleridge, the Poet, in a letter to his son, the Rev. Derwent Coleridge, emphatically writes :
— '* This ONE voLUMB, THoaouanLY understood and appropriated, will place yoc in

THE HIGHEST RANK OF DOCTRINAL ChURCU-OF-EnGLAND DiVINES, AND OF NU MEAN RANK

AS A TRUE Doctrinal Church Historian."

King James I. delighted to discourse nith Field on points of Dinnity, and when he fint
preached before him, said: " Li his name Field? This is the Field fur God to dwell in."
On hearing of his death, the King expressed r^;ret, and added, " I should have done mure for
that man!"

Fuller, in the same punning age, calls him, " That learned Divine, whose memury smelleth
like a Field which the Lord hath blessed."

Anthony a Wood tells us he was esteemed " the best disputant in the schools."

** Field was well skilled in School Divinity, and a frequent preacher while he livc<l in
Oxfordshire, and is said to have been very instrumental in preventing the increase of non-
conformity in the University.** — Gougu.

" When he first set about writing his book ' of the Church,' his old acquaintance^ Dr.
KetUe, dissuaded him, telling him that when once he was engaged in coutroveny he would
never liv*) quietly, but be continually troubled witli answers and replies. To tliis Field
answeivd, ' I will so write that they shall have no great mind to answer me :' which proved
to be nearly the case, oa his main arguments were never refuted.*' — Chalmers.

HeyKn, in his " Life of Laud," calls him, " the reverend right learned Dr. Field, whoMc
excellent works will keep his name aUve to succeeding ages."

Subscribers* Names rlceived by
John Boun, 17, Henriettii Street, Covciit Garden.

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